


Rise

by Skyshadow54



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adopted Children, Angst, Beginning of the war (Transformers Prime), Character Death, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Family, Gen, Minor Violence, Original Character Death(s), Praxus, Pre-War Cybertron, have sympathy on their guardians and teachers, kids who basically become siblings, mini stunticons, mischievous younglings, possibly Velocitronian descendants, speedsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 82,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25492855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyshadow54/pseuds/Skyshadow54
Summary: When Jazz finds a orphaned youngling, what chaos happens? Can Prowl survive the two of them, or will he be driven insane? Set pre-war Cybertron in the Prime universe with a bit of Transformers: Exodus and IDW comics influence.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13
Collections: Universe One





	1. Untouchable

Harmony stood in the kitchen of the medium-sized house. She hummed to herself as she began getting out ingredients for an energon oil cake. In her helm, she was working on lyrics to a song idea she'd had earlier that orn.

Currently, her sparkmate, Wingracer, was on the way home from Iacon. He had had a race last offcycle and then had spent most of the orn in Iacon with their oldest youngling.

The next orn was a holiday, so Blurr was coming home for it, Wingracer bringing him.

It would be nice to have everyone home, even if it was for just one orn.

Harmony sighed. They were so busy, and the younglings weren't even that old yet.

Blurr now attended secondary school in Iacon, only coming home every so often. Wingracer had races and training in a few different city states, so he also was often away. When her sparkmate was home for the off season, Harmony herself was busy performing shows across the planet. Steeldust was just as busy, even though he hardly left the city sector. When everyone else was occupied, he'd go find a friend or two to hang out with. His orns were usually spent at a small abandoned racetrack not far from home.

Speaking of Steeldust...

"Hmm, where did that little turbofox get off ta now," Harmony murmured, pausing as she listened. Her doorwings twitched as she tilted her helm.

The house was quiet. Either Steeldust was getting into mischief or he had vacated. Maybe he'd snuck off to play with Whistle or Tigerlily.

"Steeldust?"

No answer.

"He must've gone outside." Harmony walked briskly down the hall to the back door. Stepping outside, she quickly scanned the yard. "Steeldust!"

A dirt covered helm poked up from a hole in the ground by the back fence. "Yes, Carrier?"

Hands on her hips, Harmony looked over at her youngest. "What are ya doin', younglin'?"

Crawling out, Steeldust shook himself off. "I was diggin' a hole."

"I can see dat," remarked the femme, raising an optic ridge. "What for?"

The six-vorn-old skipped across the yard and looked up at his carrier. "I was trying to dig to the second level of Cybertron."

Harmony laughed lightly. "Steel, ya can't do that. Not from here anyways." Looking him up and down once, she beckoned with a hand. "Come on inside. We'll get ya cleaned up an' then ya can help me."

"Okay!"

The red and white femme made her way to the washrack, Steeldust following. After wiping off all the metal dirt and bits of gravel, the two went to the kitchen.

"Alright," Harmony said, lifting her youngling up onto his chair. "Now ya sit here an' tell me what Ah'm s'posed ta be puttin' in this here cake. An' this way, Ah can keep an optic on ya."

Steeldust carefully picked up the datapad off of the counter. "First you need a bowl, Carrier."

"Right," smiled Harmony, digging in the cupboard for the item. "What else?"

"Music to listen to."

"Ya know what? We do need music for this don't we?"

Harmony stepped quickly over to the radio and flipped the switch.

The two chatted while they worked, sometimes singing or humming along to the radio.

Not too long afterwards, the familiar engine of a race car could be heard coming down the street.

"Sire! Blurr!" yelled Steeldust, launching himself off his chair. The chair fell to the floor with a clatter as the little youngling sped to the door.

Harmony followed behind, picking the upset piece of furniture on her way.

Steeldust bounced on his pedes by the door, eagerly awaiting his sire and brother. His carrier opened the door and he was out like a shot.

"Steeldust!" Wingracer said. The lean mech crouched down on the sidewalk, servos open.

The navy and black youngling flew into them, gave him a hug, then bounced over to Blurr.

Their creators watched as Steeldust managed to knock Blurr over with a hug-tackle.

"Ahh! Steeldust!" the older brother protested.

"I missed you!" Steeldust exclaimed, getting off of Blurr.

Blurr stood up and patted the top of Steeldust's helm. "I missed you too, Steel."

Wingracer meanwhile, had moved over to where his sparkmate stood in the doorway. "My lovely femme, how do you fare?"

Harmony chuckled at his antics. "Oh, just fine. Better now that yer here, Handsome" she said playfully.

"Oh, are you now?" Wingracer asked, optic ridges dramatically raised. He took hold of Harmony's hands and pulled her in close. Kissing her, he asked, "And how about now?"

Harmony was interrupted from replying.

"Ewww!" the two younglings on the sidewalk chorused.

"Eww?" Wingracer asked, turning to face his younglings. "Really? Eww? Are you two saying I can't kiss my sparkmate when I haven't seen her for two orns and missed her terribly?"

Steeldust giggled and shook his helm. Blurr simply made a face.

Wingracer shook his helm, turning back to Harmony. "Younglings, huh?"

Standing on the tip of her pedes, Harmony gave him a quick kiss and walked inside. "They'll find it different when they're older."

The three blue mecha followed her inside.

"So how was yer drive back?" Harmony inquired as she checked on the cake.

"It wasn't bad. Some mecha were being slow on the main route, but it was tolerable." Wingracer leaned on the counter nearby. His helm tilted to the side as he watched his sparkmate. "Is that cake?"

Harmony's doorwings twitched. "Yes, it is. An' yer not tastin' it til it's done, so don't even think 'bout it."

"Awww," protested the navy and blue racer. "But I'm hungry."

Straightening to her full height, which was only up to her sparkmate's chest, Harmony gave him a stern look. "Yer always hungry. Just like yer younglings. Ah don't know how Ah'm gonna feed ya all once they're mechlings."

"Carrier, is the cake almost ready?" Steeldust said, wandering to stand between his creators. Blurr was close behind, looking eager at the mention of something to eat.

"No, it ain't. Now all of you shoo," Harmony said with a laugh, motioning them off with a hand.

"Come on, you two. You heard her," Wingracer said. He swiftly scooped up the two younglings and slung them over his shoulders.

Left dangling by their pedes, the brothers laughed and swung back and forth as their sire strolled into the living room.

"Sire," Blurr protested through his laughter. "I'm too old for this!"

"Oof!" said Steeldust, giggling as they were dropped on the couch.

Wingracer rose an optic ridge as he sat down beside them. "Too old? You won't be too old for that until I can't pick you up anymore, Blurr."

Steeldust had crawled behind the couch and now was peering around the other side of it. Doorwings twitching, he waited until Wingracer turned his back.

"Where'd Steel go, Blurr?"

He quickly got his answer.

"Got you!" squealed Steeldust as he tackled his sire from behind.

"Oh no! The little monster has got me!" Wingracer cried, pretending to fall to the floor.

Blurr watched from the couch as the two tussled on the floor in front of him. Then, the twelve-vorn-old grinned, and launched himself on top of the pile.

"Oof," squeaked Steeldust.

"Not another one! Harmony, there's little blue monsters everywhere!" Wingracer said, tickling the younglings to get them off of him. "Help me!"

"Yer fine," came the amused response from the kitchen.

"No, I'm not! I need a beautiful rescuer to save me!" the racer said, dramatically throwing a hand over his forehelm.

Blurr and Steeldust took that astroklik to attack again.

"Ack! They're back!"

"Surrender!" cried Blurr, standing over the fallen mech. "Or face your doom!"

"Surrender!" Steeldust echoed, hopping around Wingracer. "Surrender, surrender, surrender!"

"Alright, I surrender," replied Wingracer calmly, holding up his hands. "You two vanquished me."

"Yay!" the younglings chorused.

"But," their sire said, holding up one digit. "Hold on here. You might have beat me, but there's something else not even you two can beat."

Blurr tilted his helm, Steeldust copying the motion.

"What's that?" the older one asked.

Wingracer grinned broadly. "The predacon."

"No, not the predacon," shrieked Steeldust happily. In a flash of navy and black, he ran out the back door.

Blurr and Wingracer were hot on his heels, Wingracer doing his best predacon impression.

Harmony chuckled to herself as she set the table for dinner. "Ya'd think Ah live at the theatre or somethin'. At least there's never a dull moment 'round here."

* * *

Wingracer crossed the finish line and slid to a stop. Checking behind him, he saw that everyone else was way behind him.

As the remaining mechs and femmes finished, the crowds went wild with cheering.

"And there you have it femmes and gentlemechs!" said the announcer over the speakers. "The winner of this orn's race, though not really a surprise, is Wingracer!"

More cheering from the crowd. Wingracer grinned and waved. A few fellow racers clapped him on the back in congratulations. He returned their congratulations to them.

"Just in from the officials down in the pits," the announcer called out. "Not only has Wingracer won, he's apparently just broke the record for fastest race!"

Wingracer stood in shock for a few astrokliks. _"I beat the record again?"_

"That's the eighth time young Wingracer has beat the record. Though I think we all know that majority of that might just be beating his own records," laughed the announcer mech. "Everybody else, good race. Now you mecha know whose time is the time to try and beat!"

After the racers got cooled down and rested a bit, they returned to the pits.

Reporters were waiting to speak to the racers, mecha holding cameras accompanying. Spreading out in between the racers, the group began asking questions.

A few mecha approached Wingracer.

"Wingracer, can we ask you a few questions?"

"How do you keep beating these records and setting new ones?"

"Are the rumours that you're descended from the Velocitronian colony true?"

"Are your younglings going to follow in your pedesteps?"

"Wingracer, what is your opinion on the gladiator, Megatronus?"

Wingracer held up his hands for quiet. The questions stopped and microphones were held up, cameras rolling.

The navy and cobalt racer shook his helm and smiled. "Ya know, I think you all were asking questions faster than I can talk."

Everyone surrounding him laughed at the joke. Wingracer was well known for talking at high speeds.

One reporter joked, "Sorry, Wingracer. And please don't talk too fast when answering us?"

"I'll try," smirked the racer. "Tell me if I go too fast, alright?"

Seeing nodding helms, he continued. "Some of these questions, I will have to deny because they're personal. But one I found interesting, it's not something I've been asked before.

"I think Megatronus is a very gifted speaker. And I admire that he's taking the opportunities he's given to speak out against the injustices of our world. In some things that he's said, I would agree. However, there are things I believe he's wrong about.

"And given the fact that he is a very gifted speaker, I think we need to be careful and think about what he's saying, not just blindly believe it. Some things he has said, well... They just make me wonder at his true intentions.

"But saying that, he does make some good points. I sincerely hope that he can find a way to get out of Kaon. It's a horrible place."

The reporters were silent for a klik, then the rush of questions began again.

Wingracer sighed internally _. "Heh. That wasn't the question they expected me to answer. Ah well, time to answer the ones I've answered so many other times."_

"Wingracer. Can you tell us about this orn's race?" one reporter asked, thrusting her microphone expectantly at the racer. "What does this win mean for you?"

After thinking for a couple astrokliks, Wingracer replied. "Actually, and maybe surprisingly to you, I didn't mean to break the record this orn. I was just here for the race, you know? You see, it's not just a race to me. I'm not here for the crowds cheering or the competition. Okay, maybe I'm a little competitive."

He paused and grinned sheepishly as the surrounding reporters laughed.

"If I'm honest, I really don't care about the fame. I'm just here more or less to have fun. The reason I race, is cause I love to race. I'm here to run.

"Heh, it might sound a little odd or silly, but I'm the kind of racer who merely likes the feel of the wind rushing past me. The roar of engines competing for first. The feeling of flying along the track."

"Well, I guess we know why your called _Wing_ racer even though you're not a flier," called one reporter jokingly.

"He just _flies_ along the track," said another.

Wingracer couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah, maybe."

After politely answering or declining more questions for several kliks, Wingracer spied one of his friends heading towards the exit.

"I-apologize-but-I-really-must-go-now-everyone. Gotta-run!"

The mecha watched as the tall, wiry racer suddenly zipped away.

"Hey, Lightwave! Wait up!" Wingracer called as he approached his friend.

The green and yellow turned, grin on his faceplate. "Hey, Wing! Nice racing! I couldn't believe when you just shot ahead of me like that, where'd you get all that speed?"

Wingracer laughed, rubbing the back of his helm. "I don't know, mech. Like I tell everyone else, I don't have some secret. It's just the way I am I suppose."

Lightwave shrugged. "Whatever you say, Wing. If you ever figure it out, mind telling a friend how you do it?" he asked good-naturedly.

"Sure," the blue and navy grinned. "You did great out there too. That move you pulled back on the fifth lap? That was brilliant!"

"Heh, that was nothing. Just wait and see what I do next race!"

"I look forward to it."

As Wingracer walked alongside his friend, he couldn't help but feel pretty good.

His world might not be perfect, but he was content with his life.

Unbeknownst to him or his family, things were soon to change.

For the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Credit Song" for this chapter: Ignition - TobyMac
> 
> Thanks for reading! I'd love to read any thoughts or comments you may have. :)


	2. Shattered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fast forward about a vorn and things aren't so happy anymore. Here we meet siblings who either have, or will have, regrets.

About a vorn later.

_“This orn, we mourn the loss of two favourite celebrities. Two offcycles ago, Wingracer, record-breaking racer, and Harmony, music artist, tragically were offlined in a shooting incident. The couple’s two younglings are safe and under protective care. As of right now, investigation is ongoing to uncover the reason for them being targeted. Law enforcers have been- “_

Blurr turned off the radio. He didn’t want to hear anymore.

“You okay, Blurr?” Fasttrack asked from his side of the room.

The cobalt and cerulean youngling shook his helm. He really wasn’t. It felt like there was a giant hole in his spark, an awful numb feeling.

Fasttrack shifted in his seat at his desk. “Do you- Uh, do you want me to stay or- “

“It’s fine, you can do whatever,” Blurr muttered.

“Uh, okay. I’ll be back later, okay?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.” The burgundy and grey wandered to the doorway of their dorm room and paused for a klik. Looking at his friend one more time, he left.

Blurr brought his pedes close to him and rested his servos on his knee joints. He wanted to curl in a ball and just stop feeling altogether.

Fasttrack’s berth and desk on the opposite side of the room got blurry as the blue youngling’s optics filled with tears.

His creators were offline.

He had hoped that the sudden and violent snap of their bonds had been some sort of sick joke. He didn’t really believe they were gone, they couldn’t be.

But the news reporters had confirmed it. Same with the law enforcer that came looking for him, telling him the bad news.

So had Steeldust, more or less, through their bond.

Blurr wiped his faceplate. He had to be strong for his little brother. Wherever he was.

Opening the wall he had on their bond a crack, Blurr tentatively felt for his sibling.

_/Blurr?/_ came the voice, small and scared. A wave of pain and grief hit Blurr’s side of the bond.

The older brother almost slammed his wall back up.

_/Steeldust. Are you okay?/_ Blurr asked instead, gritting his denta, trying not to let any of his emotions through.

_/Carrier and Sire are gone,/_ came the response. _/I can’t feel them anymore. You’re hard to feel too. Are you okay, Blurr?/_

Blurr choked back a sob.

_/Blurr?/_

_“Scrap, he can feel my emotions. Now he’s going to feel worse than he’s already feeling,”_ thought the older brother.

_/I’m fine, Steel. Where are you? Are you safe?/_

_/I don’t know where I am. Think I’m in a hospital./_

Okay, that probably counted as a safe place.

_/Why are you there?/_

_/I don’t know. /_

_“His emotions are all over the place,”_ Blurr thought, holding his helm. _“I think he’s panicking. Now I’m panicking.”_

_/Blurr. You have to stay away from the-/_

Slamming his walls back into place, Blurr drew back from the bond. He could still feel his brother, but only faintly now.

It was a relief.

Curling up on his berth, Blurr let the tears fall freely. Covering his mouth, he bit back the sobs shaking his thin frame.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t take care of both himself and his brother.

There was too much pain. His spark already hurt as it was. He didn’t know if he could handle Steeldust’s pain too.

* * *

“BLURR! NO!” Steeldust screamed.

The black and white mech ran into the youngling’s room, a nurse right behind him.

“Steel! What’s wrong?” the investigator asked, rushing to the berth where Steeldust sat.

“Blurr, no, no, no,” the seven-vorn-old cried, sobbing uncontrollably. He kept talking, now too fast to understand. His whole frame trembled and his vents came in short, quick gasps.

“He’s having a panic attack,” the nurse said, approaching the youngling. Crouching in front of him, she tried to get his attention. “Steeldust. Sweetspark, I need you to vent for me. It’s going to be okay, you’re safe here.”

Jazz watched from the side. His doorwings twitched as he looked from the youngling who was freaking out to the nurse trying to calm him down.

“It’s okay, Steeldust,” the nurse said softly. “You’re going to be okay.”

Steeldust’s screams and cries gradually diminished into whimpers. His hyperventilating also slowed down as he focused on what the nurse was saying.

Jazz glanced at the nurse, who nodded her helm.

“You can pick him up now.”

The investigator sat on the edge of the berth and carefully gathered Steeldust into his servos. Setting him on his lap, he gently stroked the little youngling’s doorwings. “Shh, it’s okay, Steeldust. It’s alright now.”

Steeldust sat shaking for some time. He hid his faceplate against Jazz’s chest.

The nurse checked him over and decided he would be okay.

“What happened? Ah thought he was doin’ better,” Jazz remarked, looking up at the nurse.

“I confess, we had thought the same thing,” she said with a weak shrug. “Let him rest for now, we can try to talk to him about it later. Just stay with him.”

Jazz nodded. He glanced down at the now silent youngling.

Steeldust was now absolutely still, no expression on his faceplate. Even his optics were void.

Like the first several orns after his creator’s offlinement.

* * *

Stepping off the transport, the slim femme paused. Twitching her doorwings anxiously, she glanced around.

She hadn’t been in this sector of Polyhex in vorns.

It had been too long.

Now it was too late.

The transport rolled off down the road, jerking the femme back to reality.

“Time ta git dis over with,” she muttered to herself. Squaring her shoulders, she marched off in the direction of her destination.

Arriving in a quarter of a breem, the white and red femme walked up to the door. Glancing down at the key in her hand, she took a deep vent.

This was it.

Unlocking and opening the door, she stepped in.

_“They changed da place since Ah was here last.”_ She paused, shaking her helm. _“Of course dey did. Ya haven’t been here in so long.”_

Walking further into the house, Lyric surveyed the job ahead of her.

As the adult next of kin, it was her job to sort through Harmony and Wingracer’s belongings and deal with them.

It was about time she finally did.

It had been jours since she heard news of their passing.

According to the investigator that had adopted the younger of the two younglings, some stuff had been sorted already. He didn’t know what to do with the rest, things that didn’t belong to the younglings.

And she’d promised him that she’d do the rest of it.

“Alright then, Ah better get to it.”

She didn’t move from the middle of the dusty kitchen.

“What am Ah doin’ here? Ah can’t do this.”

_“Ya have ta. It’s yers ta do. Ya’ve shoved the younglings’ care on someone else, ya can do this at least.”_

With a groan, Lyric forced herself forward.

This was going to be a long and painful solarcycle.

* * *

Breems passed as Lyric went through the house, sorting the belongings and things she could move by herself. The furniture would have to be sold and picked up another orn.

While digging through the hall closet, Lyric found an old datapad, covered in dust. Brushing it off, she turned it on.

_“Pictures,”_ she thought, scrolling through the multitude.

The first several dozen were of the two younglings, Wingracer, and Harmony. Lyric couldn’t help but chuckle at some of them.

Wingracer had always been quite the character.

Harmony had had a sense of humour as well.

It seemed their younglings had inherited some of that.

“Ah don’t even know these younglings,” Lyric realized sadly. “Ah wasted time Ah coulda had with you too, Harmony.”

Lyric scrolled even further. She let out a soft gasp as she saw what was near the beginning.

These were from when she and Harmony were younglings themselves!

“Ah can’t believe she still has these,” murmured Lyric.

Harmony never had given up on her it seemed.

She couldn’t say the same.

Touching a picture of herself and Harmony hugging each other, Lyric began to cry. “Ah’m so sorry, Harmony. Ah should have let our differences go. Now it’s too late fo’ me ta make amends wit’ ya.”

Falling to her knee joints, Lyric wept. She held the datapad to her chest. “Why was Ah such a fool?”

Shaking her helm, she bit her lip. “Ah’m sorry, sister.”

* * *

Jazz paused at the front door of his house. Stooping, he picked up a box that sat on the step.

“Huh, wonder what dis is.”

His optic ridges furrowed as he saw the name of the sender.

“Hmm.”

* * *

Steeldust bounded into the house, Aftershock following behind him.

“Jazz? Jaaaaazzz,” the youngling called, wandering through the front room.

The investigator walked down the hall. “Hey, Steeldust. Aftershock.”

“Hello, Jazz,” smiled the tall, bronze and green mech. “I see you’re back in one piece.”

Jazz grinned. “You bet. How did Steeldust behave fo’ ya dis time?”

“He was a pleasure to have for a visit,” Aftershock replied. “Aurora and I have missed the little scamp.”

“It was fun,” added Steeldust, hugging Jazz’s pede.

“Ah’m glad. Thanks fo’ takin’ him, Aftershock. Ah really do appreciate it,” Jazz said, reaching out a hand.

Aftershock shook it, grinning broadly. “No problem at all, Jazz. Anytime you need us. We’re not busy very often and Aurora Star loves having a youngling around the place. Now I better get back home.”

Jazz walked the other mech to the door, Steeldust clinging to his pede still.

“Be seein’ ya,” the investigator said. “Take care, mech. And say hi to Aurora for me.”

“Will do. Good offcycle to you both,” the construction worker said with a dip of his helm. “See you another time.”

“Bye, Aftershock!” called Steeldust, waving energetically.

As Aftershock drove off, Jazz dragged Steeldust back inside again.

“A package came fo’ ya, Steeldust.”

“What is it?” asked the curious youngling. He peered up at Jazz, then looked around. “Where is it?”

“In the living room-“ Jazz began.

Steeldust let go and was off in a flash.

Jazz shook his helm and grinned. He sauntered into the next room, finding Steeldust already tearing into the box.

“What’d ya find dere?”

“Look! This is Carrier’s music that she was working on!” Steeldust said, holding up the datapad with wide optics. “And this one says your name on it.”

Jazz took the small datapad thrust towards him. Keeping an optic on Steeldust, who had dived back into the box, he read the note.

_I went through Harmony and Wingracer’s place. Thought the younglings would like to have some of the stuff. Here are some things for Steeldust, I also sent some to Blurr as well. Thank you for all that you’ve done for these two. Lyric._

_“Huh,”_ thought Jazz, subspacing the datapad. _“Interestin’. Ah wonder what Blurr got.”_

Steeldust had carefully and gently set what he’d received on the table and stood gazing at it.

There was a datastick, probably with pictures on it, the datapad with Harmony’s unreleased music, and some drawings on thin sheets of metal with Steeldust’s signature scrawled along the bottom. In addition, there was a small ball that looked well loved.

“This was Sire and Carrier’s,” the navy and black said, pointing to the items. “And those were pictures I drew for them.”

Jazz nodded, trying to gauge Steeldust’s reaction. “Ya wanna look at what’s on the datastick, Steel?”

Tilting his helm, the youngling flicked his doorwings as he thought for a few kliks. Then, he shook his helm. “No, not right now.”

“Okay.”

“I’m gonna put this stuff away in my room.”

“Do ya need some help?”

“Okay.”

Jazz picked up the ball and the datastick. Steeldust gathered the rest of the things in his servos and trudged down the hall.

Once they got to his room, Steeldust got down on his knee joints and shoved everything under his berth. “They can go there.”

“Alright,” the investigator said, handing the things he was carrying to Steeldust, who immediately put them with the rest.

“You okay?” Jazz asked, looking down at the seven-vorn-old.

“Yes,” Steeldust nodded. He ran out of his room, skittering quietly down the hall. A few astrokliks later, he was back, dragging the box behind him.

Jazz chuckled as Steeldust grabbed the datapad he used to draw with and hopped into the box.

“Ah’ll be out dere if ya need me okay?” the black and white said, gesturing over his shoulder. “Ya can come an’ tell me bout yer orn if ya want?”

Steeldust looked out over the top of his box. “Okay. Maybe in a little bit.”

Jazz nodded. “Alright.”

He got up and left, heading to the living room. Sitting on the couch, he picked up a datapad off the table. He kept a sharp audio out for Steeldust.

About half a breem later, the box came down the hall and entered the living room, Steeldust accompanying.

Looking up from his datapad, Jazz rose an optic ridge. Twitching a doorwing, he moved over a little to look beside the couch.

Steeldust’s helm popped up from behind it. He pushed the box in front of the couch, then climbed into it again. He sat back to the couch, sticking his pedes out over the edge of the box to be more comfortable.

Jazz smirked, holding back his laughter.

Looking down at the youngling, he realized that he had plugged the datastick that been in the package into his datapad. Steeldust sat in a way that the datapad was angled so that Jazz could look too.

_“Good. Ah think.”_

The two sat in silence for awhile, just enjoying each other’s company. Jazz watched from above as Steeldust scrolled through the pictures of him and his family. There were also a few of the brothers and other younglings their age.

_“Ah’ll have ta ask him who they are some time,”_ thought the investigator.

But not this orn. It was surprising that Steeldust had even ventured to look at the datapad at all.

* * *

“I don’t care. Now just leave me alone!”

Jazz sighed, rubbing his face. Crossing his servos, he looked sternly down at the youngling. “Look, Ah know ya don’t like me. But think about yer brother. Ya’ve made him think yer offline.”

Blurr glared up at the investigator. “I told you already. I can’t take care of both him and me. It was the only way.” He paused, looking away. His voice was less angry as he added, “It-wouldn’t-be-fair-to-him. It’s-better-this-way.”

“So. Yer just givin’ up. Just like dat.”

The youngling glared at the floor, saying nothing.

“Yer brother is all ya got, Blurr. An’ yer all he’s got,” Jazz said gently. “Don’t ya think it’d be better ta stick it out together?”

“Just- Just-go-away,” burst out Blurr. “I-don’t-need-him. I-don’t-need-anybody.” He jabbed a digit towards Jazz. “And-I-especially-don’t-need-you! So-just-leave-me-alone!”

Jazz frowned sadly, but nodded his helm. “Alright, Ah’ll go. But please think bout it. Here’s my comm code if ya change yer mind.”

Snatching the extended information, Blurr stormed back inside his dorm. Slamming the door shut, he pressed the button to lock it.

With a shake of his helm, Jazz walked away. _“The poor youngling ain’t doin’ any better than his brother. At least now Ah kinda understand why he did what he did._

_“Steeldust won’t though. How do Ah tell him? Blurr don’t even wanna see him right now._

_“Maybe Ah’ll wait a bit. He might come around. Ah hope.”_

* * *

“Hello?” Lyric answered her comm, not recognizing the code.

“Lyric? It’s Jazz.”

“Oh, hello,” the femme said hesitantly. “Can Ah help ya?”

Jazz paused a klik. “Ah’m just letting ya know the investigation is finished. The case is closed. Ah though Ah’d let ya be the first ta hear da story before it’s broadcasted. Dat is, if ya wanna know.”

Lyric sucked in a sharp vent. “What did ya find out?”

“Ah questioned the mecha responsible. It seems dat both Wingracer an’ Harmony said some things publicly that Megatronus’ more zealous supporters didn’t like. They sent out a group of hitmechs to deal with them.”

“Are ya serious? That’s pathetic.”

“I know. But in between you and me, that’s not the whole story.”

“What?” Lyric’s voice went up higher than normal. She sat down on a nearby chair. “What do ya mean?”

With a sigh Jazz continued. “Look, I’m only telling you this cause I think it’s yer right ta know. An’ I wouldn’t be doin’ this without usin’ this secure connection. That’s why ya probably didn’t recognize the code, but this is the only way I felt it was safe to comm you and tell you.

“Not only did they speak out against some of what Megatronus’ said, but against the Council too.”

“Ya don’t mean...” Lyric trailed off, optics widening.

“That it was set up by the Council? Ya, I do. The mecha that assassinated Harmony and Wingracer claim that they were hired by the Council, but also conveniently happened to be followers of Megatronus. Council didn’t know that until after. The hitmech were quite fine with keepin’ it on the down low as long as the voices were silenced.

“But we caught ‘em so dat didn’t work out. Now da Council has an opportunity ta give reasons why Megatronus shouldn’t be listened ta.”

“So basically, the real killers sit nice an’ safe with their hands clean?” Lyric asked, astounded at the lengths their government would go. She knew they were bad before, but not to this extent.

“Unfortunately, yes. We can’t do a thing bout it either.”

Both Polyhexians were silent for several kliks.

“Ah’m sorry, Lyric,” Jazz said quietly.

“It’s not yer fault,” the femme replied. “Thank ya for lettin’ me know.”

“Ah’ll let ya go. You and the younglings should be safe. They got who they wanted,” Jazz replied dejectedly. “Take care, Lyric.”

“Okay, good orn, Jazz.”

After the investigator disconnected the comm, Lyric sat for awhile.

_“If only Ah could do something. It’s awful what they’ve done, what they do every orn to mecha,”_ she thought, clenching her fist. _“Harmony and Wing were only giving their opinion. They weren’t doin’ anythin’ wrong! Someone had ta stand up fo’ what’s right.”_

Lyric got to her pedes and stormed out the front door. Maybe Megatronus was right, it was time for a new age, where the Council didn’t reign over the planet with a heavy fist.

She didn’t agree with everything the gladiator said, but she’d had enough.

Being middle caste meant her family was better off than a lot of mecha. Lyric actually lived fairly comfortably, and hadn’t been affected as much as others.

Now her little world had been shattered.

Things just got personal.

As she stalked through her neighbourhood, she lifted a hand to her comm.

“Lyric? What’s up?”

“Anchor. How’d ya like ya take a little trip ta Kaon?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Note: Anchor is another character in my long list of oc's. So is Lyric, but I co-share her with one of my brothers.  
> Credit Song: Safe & Sound - Taylor Swift


	3. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our favourite enforcer meets the little terror under his best friend's care. Also, another enforcer is unwillingly involved.

“Come on, Jazz!” called the thin youngling as he ran ahead of the white and black investigator.

“A’right, a’right, I’m comin’,” grinned Jazz. He followed the hyperactive youngster down the street. Being quickly left behind, he picked up the pace, his longer pedes allowing him to catch up.

“So, what are we gonna do today?” asked the navy and black youngling, looking up at Jazz. His blue-green optics shone with excitement.

“Well,” hummed the investigator. “I got ta report some stuff ta a friend. Then, I suspect I’ll teach ya ta sneak up on ‘im.”

Jazz watched as his young charge’s face lit up with more excitement. If that was possible. The seven-vorn-old was actually bouncing as he walked, making the investigator chuckle.

“Ah guess that sounds good to ya, huh?”

“Yeah, Jazz! When can I sneak up on him?” asked the youngling.

Jazz patted him on the helm. “As soon as I’m done talking ta him.”

“Okay!” nodded the navy and black. He ducked out from under Jazz’s hand and ran ahead.

“Hey!” called Jazz. “You’re goin’ da wrong way, Speedy!”

“Oh!” came the youngling’s reply. He ran back to join Jazz who was waiting for him.

“Ta get there, we hafta go this way,” said the investigator as he pointed down an adjoining street. Turning, he started walking, the excited youngling followed right on his heels.

They soon arrived at their location. Jazz strode up the steps to the building, placing the youngling on his shoulders so he wouldn’t run off again.

“Is this where your friend works, Jazz?” asked the youngling. He held onto the sides of Jazz’s helm as he craned his neck to look up at the tall building with curiosity.

“Yes, it is. Now ya gotta behave and let me talk ta some mecha, okay?” said the white and black mech. He walked through the doors and towards the front desk, youngling still seated on his shoulders.

“Okay!”

Satisfied with the answer, Jazz kept moving. He reached the desk, which came up to the short investigator’s chest. Jazz leaned on it with one arm atop the ledge, waiting for the mech behind it to finish what he was doing.

The mech would not be much taller than Jazz when standing. He had the door wings that most Praxians had, which flitted every few kliks as their owner worked. The mech was mostly white with bright blue on his arms, doorwings, and legs. He looked to be filing some paperwork that had been dropped off by someone.

“I will be right with you,” he said flatly, not bothering to look up at the mech leaning casually against his desk.

“No problem, take yer time,” said Jazz. He busied himself by examining his surroundings through his visor.

The front room of the office building was mostly empty except for the bot at the desk and a few other officers walking to different areas.

The officers said nothing to the investigator, but from the look on their faceplates, the sight of a youngling sitting atop someone’s shoulder plates was uncommon in their domain. Jazz just returned the strange looks with a wide grin.

Finally, the Praxian at the front desk lifted his head to acknowledge the bot standing beside it. Immediately his optic ridges shot up as he beheld the sight in front of him.

The investigator pretended not to notice that anything was out of the ordinary while the youngling waved at the Praxian from behind his helm.

Recovering from shock, the Praxian shook his helm and asked, “May I help you?”

“Yes,” replied Jazz. “Is Prowl ‘round here somewhere?”

“Yes, he is in his office. Do you have an appointment?” replied the Praxian, still eyeing the youngling staring at him over the investigator’s helm.

“No, Ah just have some things ta drop off,” Jazz replied, pushing off the desk and straightening to his full height.

“I will let him know you are here,” said the Praxian, moving a hand to the intercom system.

Jazz was already walking away. “No need,” he called over his shoulder.

“Bye!” said the youngling with a wave.

The poor bot at the desk raised a hand to return the wave, then realized what he was doing. He spun around to face the entrance and back to his work.

Jazz walked down the hall towards Prowl’s office, nodding a greeting to the few mecha he passed. Each one paused to stop and stare at the short investigator striding through their hall with a small youngling riding on his shoulders. Jazz didn’t show any reaction and proceeded as normal.

Reaching his friend’s door, the white and black bot stopped and put the youngling on the floor beside him. Silently, the investigator pointed upwards to the vent in the wall nearby. The smaller mecha nodded his helm, understanding exactly what Jazz meant.

Jazz reached up and silently opened the vent. He then picked up the youngling again, holding him up so that the little youngling could reach. After he was in the vent, Jazz left him and walked back to the door.

Without knocking, the investigator opened the door and walked in. The black and white mech inside looked up from his work, a rather annoyed look on his face.

“Jazz,” he said.

“Prowl,” grinned the investigator, flopping into one of the guest chairs. “What’s up?”

The black and white law enforcer sighed, putting down the datapad he’d been reading. “Well, I was working on something of importance until you barged in.”

“Barged in?” Jazz wailed with mock sorrow. “I thought ah was just givin’ ya a friendly surprise visit.”

“Well, I am too busy at the moment for social calls, Jazz. I will have to ask you to leave.”

Jazz rolled his optics under his visor at the young Praxian, his doorwings twitching. “Prowler, ya got too much stuff ta do. Can’t ya take a break fo’ a minute ta chat wit’ a friend?”

The law enforcer picked up his datapad and started reading again. “No, I cannot, Jazz.”

“Fine. I’ll just leave these here an’ be on ma way,” replied Jazz. He removed a few datapads from a subspace pocket and dropped them on the desk.

Prowl looked up. “What are those?”

“Info, Prowler,” grinned the investigator. “Now ya wanna talk?”

Prowl sighed, reaching for the small stack of datapads. He turned them on and quickly scanned their contents. While he was reading, Jazz glanced up at the vent in the law enforcer’s office.

A pair of blue-green optics looked back at him, asking the investigator a silent question.

Jazz nodded his head slightly, a motion that wouldn’t be seen unless you were looking for it. He twitched a door wing slightly, sending a signal to the owner of the optics hidden in the vent.

Immediately a small blur silently launched from the vent. It landed squarely on the unsuspecting Praxian’s shoulders.

Prowl let out a small yelp, his optics wide as he jumped to his feet, reaching behind his helm to dislodge whatever it was that had landed on him. A pair of hands reached around his helm to cover his optics. Prowl attempted to pry off the small digits covering his faceplate.

As Jazz watched the scene in front of him, he burst out laughing. The youngling atop Prowl’s shoulders giggled as the Praxian unsuccessfully tried to remove him from his perch.

After a few moments, Prowl realized that his efforts were useless and sat back down. He waited quietly until the investigator, who had fell off his chair, had calmed down enough to talk.

Jazz got to his pedes, still chuckling. He sat down in his chair and placed his pedes on top off Prowl’s desk. “Ah see ya have a parasite, Prowler,” he said with a smirk.

The black and white mech frowned. “First of all, Jazz, that is not my name. Second of all, I am assuming you had something to do with this. Also, get your pedes off my desk.”

“And why would ya deduce that?” inquired the investigator, removing his pedes and sitting up. He brought one pede up and rested it on the other’s knee joint. “Come here, kiddo.”

Immediately, Prowl was unblinded and his attacker slid down from his shoulders. The youngling skittered around the desk and climbed up to sit on Jazz’s lap. He then waved at Prowl.

“Hi! Are you Jazz’s friend?” the youngling asked.

“Yes, I am Prowl. And you are?” stated the young enforcer, directing the question at the grinning investigator.

He quickly looked the small youngling up and down. The youngling was mostly navy blue with some black and bright blue paint on his helm, torso, and pedes. His pedes made up most of his short stature. Large doorwings attached to the little one’s back flitted energetically. Prowl didn’t recognize him.

“This here’s Steeldust,” Jazz said, patting the youngling’s helm.

“I see,” replied Prowl. “What are you doing with a youngling, Jazz.”

The investigator shrugged. “Ah found him. He had nobody ta take care of ‘im. So, he’s stickin’ wit’ me.”

“Where are his creators?” Prowl said. “You need to return him to them as soon as possible.”

As he said this, the youngling’s face crumpled into a frown. He turned and buried his face against Jazz’s chest. The investigator put a hand over Steeldust’s back and rubbed his doorwings gently.

“Bad question, Prowl,” Jazz replied, dropping his accent. “They’re gone.”

Prowl considered the two mecha in his office for a moment. “I see.”

The youngling in Jazz’s servos started to wail. Jazz stared up at the Praxian.

“Now look what you did, Prowl,” the white and black mech sighed.

Prowl glared at the young investigator. “What do you mean? I did not do anything.”

Jazz rose one optic ridge above his visor. He looked from the Praxian down to the crying youngling and back up to the Praxian. The look he gave his friend seemed to say, ‘are you sure?’

Prowl sighed. “Jazz, you cannot take care of a youngling. You are too busy and your job is too dangerous to be taking him with you. Also, he will need to be in school. We both know you do not stay in one place long enough for him to attend one school.”

Steeldust started wailing louder.

“Are you serious, Prowl?” asked Jazz, still without his usual accent. “You made him cry, and now you want me to discuss this with you right now?”

“I am serious, Jazz. You cannot take care of him properly,” replied Prowl levelly.

Jazz sighed, rolling his optics again. “I’ll wing it. Happy now?”

“No.”

“When are you,” mumbled Jazz. He looked down at the youngling on his lap. He wrapped one servo around him protectively, petting his door wings with the other hand.

Steeldust’s crying turned into sniffling and hiccupping. Jazz kept rubbing his doorwings as he looked at Prowl.

“You know as well as I do that picking someone to take care of an orphaned sparkling or youngling is not easy,” Jazz said.

“Yes, and in addition, the mecha must be suited to take care of them accordingly,” snapped Prowl. “Because of your job and lifestyle, you are not, Jazz.”

“Says you,” challenged Jazz. “I found him; I keep him.”

Prowl threw his hands up in exasperation. “Jazz! You cannot play finders keepers with a youngling.”

Jazz shrugged. “He likes me an’ Ah like him,” he spoke, accent returning.

“That is not all that is required to adopt him. You cannot take care of him properly, please find someone who can.”

“Maybe. Ah’ll look into it.”

“Jazz.”

“And ain’t it partly the Steeldust’s decision too? He’s gotta like his new caretaker.”

“Yes, but he needs a suitable environment as well,” countered the Praxian.

Jazz sighed. “Prowl, Ah said Ah’ll look inta it.” He rose to his pedes, picking up Steeldust as he did. The youngling peered at Prowl; optics wide. He was still sniffling.

“Jazz, sit down,” Prowl commanded. “We are not finished.”

“Well, any further conversation is gonna turn into things that Ah don’t wanna discuss in front of Steeldust here. So, unless one o’ yer fellow officers wants ta keep an optic on him, Ah gotta take him home.”

“Fine, find some mecha to look after him and get back in here,” snapped Prowl.

Jazz looked at the enforcer for a moment. Steeldust rested his helm tiredly on the investigator’s shoulder.

“Ya seriously want me ta take him and give him ta one of the other officers ta look after?” asked Jazz, optic ridges as high as they could go.

“Yes,” returned Prowl flatly, placing his folded hands on his desk.

“I thought ya were too busy,” challenged the investigator.

“This is more important,” Prowl said, nodding his helm towards the almost recharging youngling. “We need to make sure he is taken care of properly.”

“Fine,” huffed Jazz.

The investigator turned and stomped out of the office. He paused at the door, wondering if he could slam it without waking Steeldust up. Figuring that he couldn’t, he closed it gently and stalked back down the hall.

Back in his office, Prowl sighed. He was not looking forward to the argument that was to come.

Also, the enforcer noted that the youngling seemed to have worn out easily. He wondered how healthy he was and where exactly Jazz had found him.

* * *

Jazz walked up to the front desk from behind. The Praxian seemed to be ignoring him, so the investigator tapped him on the shoulder.

The mech flinched and spun in his chair to face the intruder.

Realizing that it was only the mech from earlier, he relaxed. “Yes, may I help you?” he asked with annoyance.

Jazz’s mouth tipped up in a small smile. “Yeah, Prowl says for you ta take care of this youngling for me.”

With that, the white and black mech carefully deposited the sleeping youngling onto the Praxian’s lap. Then, he turned and walked away in the direction he’d come.

“Wait, what?” sputtered the mech. “I have work to do.”

“Don’t like it, take it up with Prowl,” replied Jazz grumpily without looking back or stopping.

“But- But,” the white and blue Praxian said, glancing from the youngling to the investigator.

He turned in his chair carefully to not wake up the youngling. Reaching across his desk, he pushed a button on his intercom system.

“Yes,” asked Prowl’s voice from the machine.

“Sir, a youngling was just delivered to me by a white and black mech with a blue visor. He said that you said I am to look after it.”

Prowl sighed. “Well, I did not mean you specifically, but yes, please take care of him. I need to talk to the mech that brought him without his presence.”

“Yes, sir,” answered the other Praxian with barely hidden dismay.

“Thank you,” said Prowl.

The white and blue shut off the intercom and looked down at the youngling. “Now how am I supposed to do my work with you here,” he muttered with a frown.

Meanwhile, Jazz had reached Prowl’s office again. He opened the door and after walking in, slammed it behind him. As he sat down in his chair, the law enforcer glared at him.

“Now you are just doing that to be annoying,” growled the Praxian, his doorwings twitching.

“Yer one ta talk,” scowled Jazz. “If it wasn’t for you, Ah’d be happily on ma way ta somewhere much more interesting.”

“Jazz, this is important.”

“Ah know. Ah told ya Ah’d take care of it.”

“Yes. The way you take care of things is not suitable in terms of a youngling.”

“Fine. Then what is yer great an’ glorious plan then.”

Prowl sighed, placing his hands on the desk. “Jazz, I think inside you know that you cannot provide a proper home and care for Steeldust, even though you refuse to agree with me. You need to find an alternative and permanent place for him if you have his best interest in mind. He is young, he needs education and a suitable, stable environment.”

“An’ you’re saying Ah can’t provide an education for him?” Jazz asked, crossing his servos.

“As I said before, you move around too much for Steeldust to stay in the same school for long. His life would consist of constantly moving,” returned Prowl.

“Ah wouldn’t hafta do that.”

“No, but how long do you think that would last? Jazz, even if you did stay in one place, you’re too busy.”

Jazz glared at Prowl. “So, you just want me to find someone Steeldust has never met and leave him there. Probably he’d never see me again,” he snapped, dropping his accent again.

“Jazz, I can tell you are attached, but you need to think of his best interests- “

“I am thinking of his best interests!” Jazz hissed, interrupting Prowl. “Do you really think I’m just thinking of myself? The youngling already lost his creators and possibly anyone else he knew. Do you really want him to lose someone else too?”

“Calm down, Jazz,” said Prowl flatly. “Please explain.”

“Steeldust’s creators were offlined. Even if he didn’t see it happen, he would have felt it through their bond. From the little he told me; his family was in the process of moving from Polyhex to where I found them.” Jazz sat back in his chair, doorwings relaxing.

“Both of his creators were shot through the spark and helm. Someone wanted them offline. Steel is lucky they missed him. The mecha responsible went for him too, but his sire must’ve got in front. He had two wounds about where Steeldust’s helm and chest would be if he was standing behind him.”

Prowl listened quietly. After Jazz finished, the Praxian sat for a few klicks without replying. What the investigator had just told him was troubling.

Steeldust was likely traumatized, more than Prowl had thought when observing the youngling. No wonder Jazz had not wanted to speak about the matter in front of him.

“I assume you wish to not separate yourself from Steeldust because you were the first to find him after his creators’ offlining?” Prowl finally inquired.

“Yes,” Jazz nodded.

Prowl gave the investigator a pointed look. “And I presume that you in fact have been caring for him ever since. That explaining why I am receiving the report of that investigation just now,” the enforcer continued, tapping the datapads Jazz had brought earlier. Picking one up, he turned it on. “You dated this report almost two jours ago, Jazz.”

“Yeah, that was the investigation I found him on,” Jazz replied.

“And yet, you did not make mention a survivor of the shooting incident,” remarked Prowl, skimming through the report again. “You were considering about hiding Steeldust altogether from me, weren’t you?”

Jazz said nothing, servos still crossed. His doorwings twitched.

Prowl looked up at him, “Jazz.”

“Yes, it crossed my mind. I knew you’d do something like this,” the young investigator said slowly. “But at first I didn’t know why his creators had been offlined. Or if the culprits were still looking for the youngling. I decided to keep Steeldust off of everyone’s radar at least until I knew what the motive was.”

“I see. What made you decide to bring him then?”

“Well,” replied Jazz, leaning forward. “Ah figured that you were ma friend, an’ if Ah wanted ta keep ya as ma friend, Ah couldn’t keep somethin’ this important a secret.”

Prowl sighed. “Jazz, what am I going to do with you.”

The investigator just shrugged.

“Even with this more detailed explanation, you must look for new caretakers, Jazz. As I have said, Steeldust needs a stable living environment.”

Jazz scoffed. “Right, cause living in a world where what happened ta him provides that.”

“Jazz.”

“A’right, Ah’ll look into it,” replied Jazz tiredly. He rose from his chair and started walking towards the door. “Ya can send me whatever info ya please on da subject.”

“That I will do, Jazz,” sighed the Praxian as his friend left his office.

Prowl immediately started looking for information to send the investigator. The sooner Steeldust was placed in proper care, the better. The youngling seemed to be already very attached to the visor wearing mech, and prolonging finding a permanent caretaker would be harder on him the longer he stayed.

As he was doing this, Jazz was on his way to the front desk. Before he got there, he could hear his charge talking.

_“It seems like nap time is over,”_ Jazz thought.

“And what’s this do?” Steeldust was asking.

The white and blue Praxian quickly replied, “That is an intercom system. It allows me to communicate with other mecha in the building without leaving my desk.”

“Oh! Kinda like the comm systems you bigger mecha have!” nodded Steeldust.

Jazz paused mid stride. He was still in the hallway that opened up into the entrance. Moving to the wall, he peered around the corner.

Steeldust was now wide awake, sitting on the large desk in front of the white and blue Praxian. In typical curious Steeldust fashion, he was asking questions a mile a minute. The Praxian was surprisingly answering the questions as they were asked and was seemingly very relaxed.

Jazz smiled as he watched them. It still amazed him how much the little youngling had changed in the three jours he’d been in his care. Steeldust was much happier and outgoing than he had been. At first, he wouldn’t even talk to Jazz, now he was having a conversation with a stranger he’d just met.

Though as the reaction he had with Prowl proved, he still had a ways to go.

The investigator strode over to the front of the desk. He folded his arms and leaned on the top of it. Both mecha noticed him almost instantly.

“Jazz! You’re back!” squealed Steeldust, moving to hug the investigator over the desktop ledge. “This is my new friend, Nightracer.”

“Hey.” Jazz grinned, looking down at the Praxian. “Thanks fo’ lookin’ after Steeldust.”

Nightracer smiled back. “You are welcome. He recharged for awhile, but when he woke up, he was very well behaved.”

“That’s good,” Jazz said. “Hope he didn’t prevent ya from gettin’ yer work done.”

The Praxian shrugged, his doorwings flicking. “It was fine. I can quickly catch up.”

“He said I was helpin’, Jazz,” said Steeldust with a grin. “I helped him find his lost writing tool under the desk where he couldn’t reach. I helped him put away datapads too.”

Jazz chuckled at the excited youngling. “That was nice o’ ya, Steeldust. Now we better get going.”

“Okay,” replied Steeldust. He turned to face Nightracer. “Bye! Thanks for letting me help you!”

Nightracer dipped his helm. “You are welcome, Steeldust. See you another time.”

Jazz picked up Steeldust and started off towards the door. “Thanks again, Nightracer,” he called over his shoulder.

“Bye!” said Steeldust, waving at the Praxian.

“Farewell,” replied Nightracer, returning the wave this time.

The two mecha left the enforcer’s building and walked down the street. Jazz had put Steeldust down and the youngling skipped beside the investigator. He seemed to have forgotten crying and visiting Prowl. Maybe it was good to have let him hang out with Nightracer.

Jazz again thought about how far Steeldust had come since his creators’ offlining. He knew it would be a long time before he was healed, and even then, it would leave scars.

Especially when the investigator told him about his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit Song: Shooting Star - Owl City
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Kaon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyric, after the loss of her sister and brother-in-law and learning the truth behind their deaths, turns to a mech that may be able to help her get revenge. She also drags her friend along to Kaon with her.

“So, why are we goin’ ta, Kaon, Lyric?”

Lyric glanced up at the mech, then shook her helm. “Ya know, Ah’m not totally sure myself, Anchor. Ah need some answers, ones dat Ah hope dat gladiator can answer.”

The construction worker stopped short. He furrowed his optic ridges as he tried to figure out what his friend meant.

“Lyric! Wait up!” he called as he ran to catch up.

Running in front of the small femme, Anchor held up a hand. “Whoa, hold up dere, femme. What’s dis all bout? Ya can’t just go runnin’ ‘cross da planet ta see some gladiator dat spews pretty words outta his mouth.”

Lyric halted, placing her hands on her hips. Doorwings twitched as she stared up at her friend.

“Anchor, Ah need ta talk ta him. Ma contact said dat Harmony’s murder was possibly linked ta both da Council and Megatronus.” The white and red femme scowled, looking to the side as she crossed her servos. “Startin’ wit’ da Council.”

The mech sighed, his shoulders sagging deeply. “Lyric- Look, Ah know yer hurtin’, but ya can’t do dat- “

“And why not?” Lyric shot back. “Ah need ta, Anchor. An’ if ya don’t want ta come, den fine. I’ll go by myself.”

Anchor stood still, studying her. She stared back, her doorwings betraying her true emotions.

Finally, the mech sighed, giving in. “Okay. Ah’ll come wit’ ya. Just please promise me not ta do anything rash?”

“Ah won’t.”

“Good.”

The pair carried on, heading towards the nearest transport station.

“Makes ya wish dat da groundbridges were still operational, huh?” said Anchor with a wide grin. “It sure would be lots quicker.”

Lyric chuckled lightly, her fearful and sad mood brightened. “It would be.”

Another thought came to Anchor. He frowned, glancing down at the femme.

“Hey, Lyric. What’d yer sparkmate think o’ ya goin’? Ah’m surprised he didn’t insist on comin’.”

Glancing away, Lyric hesitantly answered. “Well- He doesn’t know. Ah gave him da update on the case, but didn’t tell him we were goin’.”

“Lyric-“ Anchor said with a deep sigh.

“Ah know! Ah know!” the femme replied, throwing her servos up. She turned to face her friend. “Ah shoulda at least told him Ah was goin’. But someone had ta look after da sparkling an’ Ah don’t want him ta worry.”

“He’s goin’ ta worry. Ya got ta tell him something, Lyric.”

“Ah’ll tell him, just not yet.”

“Fine. But ya better not drag me inta it. Ah don’t want ta face his anger when he finds out Ah let ya do dis.”

“Don’t worry, Anchor! He’s a reasonable mech, and he’ll understand why Ah have ta go.”

* * *

“Lyric? Are ya sure ya want ta stay and watch?”

The femme could barely hear Anchor over the crowd around them even though he was yelling.

She just stared down in horror at the fight going on in the pits below.

“Lyric?” Anchor said again, placing a hand on her shoulderplate. “We should go!”

Shaking her helm, Lyric firmed her expression. “No. Ah want ta see him talk.”

“If he wins this fight,” she thought, optics widening as one of the mechs took a hard hit.

Anchor winced. He didn’t know much about gladiator fights, but he did know that Megatronus’ opponent was not going to last much longer. Despite how hard he was fighting.

Soon enough, the construction worker’s guess was proved right.

Megatronus defeated his opponent and the crowd went wild with cheering.

Lyric resisted from covering her audios against the deafening clamour.

The gladiator strode to the center of the pits and raised a fist.

The crowd soon was quiet, anticipating the gladiator’s speech.

As Megatronus spoke, Lyric listened intently. She found herself agreeing with what he said.

By the time the gladiator left the pits, Lyric had made her decision.

She was going to talk to him first. Then, she would ask how she could assist in furthering his movement.

* * *

“What do ya mean, Ah can’t talk ta him,” demanded Lyric, hands on her hips as she scowled up at the mecha blocking her way.

The mech looked at the femme and her companion carefully. “Because, not everyone who asks, gets what they want. Megatronus isn’t seeing any visitors right now. Unless you have an appointment, he’s busy. Now good offcycle.”

With that, the mech slammed the door closed in their faceplates.

“Well!” spat Lyric, turning and stomping away. “How can someone be so rude?”

Anchor followed her closely, keeping a lookout for anyone who might give them trouble.

Polyhex had its problems and suspicious characters, but Kaon made even the worst sectors of their city-state look nice.

“Lyric, ya tried. And it’s admirable dat ya got dis far,” Anchor said gently. “But it’s time ta go home now. Ya told yer sparkmate ya wouldn’t be long. An’ Ah don’t think we can do anythin’ more right now.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Lyric shook her helm. “That’s where yer wrong, Anchor. Ah ain’t quittin’ til Ah talk ta Megatronus. Ah ain’t givin’ up yet.”

With a groan, Anchor shook his helm.

His friend was incredibly stubborn and he knew she wouldn’t go home until she’d gotten what she wanted.

This was going to be a long offcycle.

* * *

“Sir, a femme and mech were here earlier. They wanted to speak to you.”

Megatronus lifted his helm, turning his attention to the mech by the door.

“More reporters?”

“No. The femme wished to speak with you about your speech earlier, said she could relate,” the mech replied. He paused, then added, “She found someone else to talk to, or rather, a crowd.”

Megatronus got up, turning fully to face his follower. “What is she telling them?”

The mech scratched the back of his neck cables, beckoning with his other hand. “You are best to come and see for yourself. She- She has quite the way with words.”

* * *

Lyric paused, gazing out over the crowd that had gathered around her.

They watched her, waiting for her to continue to speak.

Anchor watched silently from nearby, a worried expression on his faceplate.

“Mecha,” Lyric continued, gesturing to the crowd. “Ah confess, Ah once was blind, not seeing da true situation with da caste systems. Ah come from a comfortable caste an’ failed ta see da oppression o’ those who were placed beneath ma own. Not seein’ how da Council trod down on those dey pleased ta. On any who dared speak against them or said something dey didn’t like.

“Until one orn, ma sister and her sparkmate were punished fo’ standin’ up fo’ what was right.”

The crowd jeered against the Council angrily.

Lyric balled her hands into fists, growing angry herself.

“Yer right,” she called above the noise. “It wasn’t fair. An’ it ain’t fair dat mecha suffer because of them. Megatronus, yer famed gladiator has spoken about these things before. Ah heard his story an’ Ah now give ya mine.

“Now tell me, mecha o’ Kaon. Do ya think we’re da only ones? Ah look inta yer optics an’ see differently. Mecha forced ta be slaves, younglings an’ sparklings taken from their creators, creators torn from their creations.

“Tell me, do ya plan ta sit by an’ watch as another loved one offlined because o’ them? Or will ya, as Megatronus has asked, stand wit’ him?”

The crowd cheered again, agreeing with what the femme said.

“We will stand!” several yelled above the rest.

No one noticed Megatronus himself, standing in the shadows nearby with a few of his close followers.

“Send Iron Blade to bring her to me,” he said lowly.

“And the mech with her?” asked the mech next to the gladiator.

“We have no need of him, he does not have the makings of a warrior,” Megatronus mused. “He will try to protect her. Have Iron Blade do whatever needs to be done to ensure he does not interfere.”

“Yes, Sir.” The mech then vanished into the shadows.

After watching for a few more kliks, the rest vacated the area as well.

* * *

Lyric and Anchor walked through the streets in silence.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” Lyric asked, halting suddenly, grabbing her friend’s servo.

Anchor turned to look down at her. “Ya shouldn’t have done dat, Lyric. Ah got a bad feeling bout it. Bout dis whole thing. We’re walkin’ inta something dangerous.”

With a wave of her hand, Lyric scoffed. “Anchor, please. Nothing’s gonna happen.”

Anchor was about to say more, when he noticed something behind Lyric.

“Get back!” he hissed, pulling her behind himself and moving towards a nearby alley.

“Anchor!” the femme protested. “What is it?”

Anchor gestured with a digit for her to be quiet, then pointed the direction they’d come.

A young mechling stood nearby, looking around, as if searching for something.

“Anchor! Ya scaredy-cybercat! It’s just a youngling!” Lyric whispered, peering up at her friend with dismay.

Anchor didn’t return the look, keeping an optic on the young stranger. “An armed, suspicious looking youngling.”

“I know you’re there,” the youngling called calmly, looking in their direction. “You might as well come out.”

After exchanging a glance, the two Polyhexians made their way out of the alley. Cautiously, they moved forwards, stopping at a short distance away from the youngling.

“Who might you be?” inquired Lyric, crossing her servos. She rose an optic ridge, staring at the young mechling. “An’ what business do ya have wit’ us?”

“I was sent to take you to Megatronus,” the youngling replied. He gestured with a hand for them to follow, then turned around. “Come.”

“Excuse me?” Anchor snorted, shaking his helm. “Ah think not, youngling.”

The grey youngling looked back over his shoulder. “That’s fine. He only wants the femme anyways. You can stay here if you don’t want to come.”

“How do we know yer tellin’ da truth?” Lyric asked, narrowing her optics.

“You don’t,” the youngling said matter-of-factly. “But,” he continued, pulling his dagger a few inches out of its sheath. “I can convince you.”

“Adorable. No thanks,” snapped Anchor. He put a servo around Lyric’s shoulders and began to guide her away. “Let’s go, Lyric.”

“Wait,” the femme said, ducking out from under his servo. She turned back to face the youngling. “What does Megatronus want wit’ me?”

“He wants to talk.” The youngling shrugged. “Didn’t say what about.”

Lyric was quiet for a few kliks, considering. Her doorwings twitched. Then, she nodded, looking directly into the youngling’s red optics.

“He’s tellin’ da truth. Alright, youngling, Ah’ll come wit’ ya.”

“Lyric!” Anchor protested loudly, whirling around. “Please tell me yer jokin’!”

“Ah’m not, Anchor.” She marched over to stand next to the youngling, who only came up to her waist. “Are ya comin’ or not?”

The youngling began walking away, satisfied that he’d gotten the mecha he’d been sent to fetch to come. He didn’t care what the other one did.

Iron Blade smiled. His mission was almost complete. Megatronus would be so impressed with how quick he’d found the femme and brought her back.

He might even get a bigger, more important mission next time.

The youngling’s smile turned into a frown when he heard the mech’s next words.

“Lyric! Dis is foolish!” Anchor protested, walking alongside the femme. “Ya ain’t thinkin’ properly.”

Iron Blade turned and scowled up at the much bigger mech. “Like I said before, either come or don’t. But if you don’t stop trying to persuade her to stay with you, I’ll have to use my dagger.”

Anchor opened his mouth to argue, but Lyric shook her helm, sending him a pleading look.

With a sigh, the construction worker gestured forward. “Fine. By all means. Lead da way.”

The youngling rolled his optics and huffed. He began walking again, leading both mecha back towards the pits.

“So, what’s yer name, youngling?” Lyric asked.

“Iron Blade.”

* * *

“Megatronus, I have brought the femme,” Iron Blade said proudly as he entered the room. Turning to glare at the mech that had accompanied, he added irritated, “and the mech came too.”

The gladiator turned and walked slowly towards the newcomers, servos behind his back. He stopped a few steps away from them, watching them.

“Very good, Iron Blade. You have done well,” he said, sending a nod of approval in the youngling’s direction.

The grey youngling stood tall, basking in the praise. “Thank you, Sir.”

“What did ya want ta talk ta Lyric bout,” Anchor demanded with a low growl. Stepping in front of his friend, he glared up at the gladiator, who simply stared back, unruffled by the construction worker.

“It is a private manner. I hope you would not mind giving us a few kliks.” Megatronus gestured to the youngling who still stood next to the doorway. “Iron Blade will escort you to a place you can wait comfortably.”

“Ah ain’t leavin’ Lyric alone wit’ ya,” hissed Anchor. “Ah don’t trust ya. Ah’m stayin’.”

“Anchor,” Lyric whispered, tugging at his servo. “Ah appreciate da concern, but Ah’ll be fine. Go wit’ da youngling.”

The construction worker glanced back and forth from his friend to the gladiator a few times. He sighed, then nodded his helm. Reluctantly, he followed Iron Blade out of the room.

After the two had left, closing the door behind them, Megatronus turned his attention the red and white femme.

“Thank you for coming. I would have come myself, but I have limited time outside the pits. And I was not certain where you had gone.”

Lyric crossed her servos. “Dat’s understandable.”

Megatronus moved further into the room, gesturing to a pair of chairs. “Please. Sit.”

Seating herself, Lyric twitched her doorwings. “So. What did ya want ta talk ta me bout?”

After sitting down in the other chair, Megatronus replied. “I heard you speaking earlier. You have a gift for words. And a passion that is similar to my own.

“I would have you join me; I could use someone like you. There’s only so far that I can reach with my speeches.”

Lyric quirked an optic ridge. “Doesn’t one o’ yer followers get them out elsewhere? How else would mecha not attending da fights hear?”

“Yes, he does. But I believe a representative who could travel would be beneficial to the movement.”

“Ah see.”

“Do you accept?”

Lyric was silent for a few kliks, considering.

She had a sparkmate and sparkling to go home to. But if she could help Megatronus with his movement against the Council and its caste system...

“You do want revenge for your sister’s murder, don’t you?” the gladiator asked quietly.

“Yes. Ah will help ya bring them down,” Lyric said, a deep frown on her faceplate. “What would ya have me do?”

Megatronus smiled, revealing sharp, pointy denta. “Excellent.”

Lyric stared at him. For a moment, the gladiator’s smile was a nasty one. Or so she had thought. Taking a second look, it didn’t seem so mean.

But as he explained what she would do, Lyric couldn’t help but wonder if Anchor had been right in not trusting the gladiator.

_“It doesn’t matter,”_ she decided internally. _“This is something Ah have ta do.”_

* * *

Meanwhile, in another room, Anchor was pacing across the floor.

Iron Blade watched the mech, growing bored of his pacing. “Would you stop that? It’s annoying.”

Anchor paused, turning his helm to glare at the youngling. Then, he went right back to his pacing.

Letting out a loud huff, Iron Blade rolled his optics. “What are you so worried about anyways?”

“Ah don’t like yer boss.”

“Well, I don’t like your attitude,” the youngling snapped back, looking quite offended.

The mech stopped and turned his full attention to the youngling. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Do other mecha say dat ta ya a lot?”

Iron Blade flicked his wings agitatedly. He sent a dark glare towards the mech. “No.”

“So, where’d ya hear it from, youngling.”

“My name’s Iron Blade. Not youngling.”

Anchor strode a few steps closer, crossing his servos. “Ma grand apologies, Iron Blade. Ah didn’t think we’d been properly introduced. Since ya decided ta sneak up on us an’ try an’ kidnap ma friend.”

“Sorry for doing my job,” snapped Iron Blade. “And I wasn’t kidnapping you, I was escorting you. Besides, you didn’t even have to come.”

“Hopeless youngling,” muttered Anchor, going back to his pacing.

“You’re hopeless!” Iron Blade yelled back, hands balling into fists at his sides.

“What ya gonna do bout it?” Anchor growled. “Why don’t ya keep yer mouth shut and Ah’ll shut mine. Den we don’t have ta talk ta each other.”

“Sounds fine by me!”

“Good!”

“Great!”

“Fine!”

“FINE!”

At that moment, Lyric and Megatronus entered the room.

“What is going on here?” inquired the gladiator.

“Are ya really fightin’ wit’ a youngling, Anchor?” Lyric asked, placing her hands on her hips.

“Ma apologies,” Anchor muttered. “Lyric, are ya ready ta go home?”

“Not yet,” replied the femme. “Ah have some business ta take care o’ first. Ah already told ma sparkmate.”

“Ah see.” Anchor frowned. This trip really wasn’t getting any better in his opinion.

“Why don’t you go home?” Iron Blade said happily. “We don’t need you.”

“Ya don’t have ta wait fo’ me, Anchor,” Lyric said, placing a gentle hand on his servo. “Ya should go home ta yer family.”

“But, Lyric,” protested Anchor. “Ya need me.”

“So, does yer family,” she said firmly. Smiling, she looked up at him. “Ah really appreciate ya, Anchor. But Ah got it from here.”

“We will keep her safe, Anchor,” added Megatronus. “You may leave. I will send someone to guide you to the edge of Kaon.”

Iron Blade stepped forward, raising a servo. “I can take him.”

Megatronus sent him a knowing look. “Thank you, Iron Blade. You may leave at once; I am sure that Anchor here wants to get home to Polyhex.”

“As you wish, Megatronus,” Iron Blade grinned widely. He turned and gestured for Anchor to follow. “Come on.”

Anchor glanced down at Lyric. “Are ya sure yer alright if Ah go?”

Lyric nodded. “Ah’ll be fine.”

“Okay...”

“Goodbye, Anchor,” Lyric said with a wave.

“Goodbye, Lyric. Come back home soon.”

Anchor followed Iron Blade out of the building, not seeing the evil grin plastered across the youngling’s face.

Iron Blade’s optics lit up eagerly when he saw a dark shadow begin to follow them.

Anchor, too busy wondering if he should be leaving without Lyric, failed to notice.

* * *

The next orn, Iron Blade returned to Megatronus, accompanied by a different mech.

“Barricade, Iron Blade,” Megatronus said once they arrived. “Did Anchor make it to the border?”

The enforcer and youngling exchanged a dark grin.

“No, Megatronus,” Iron Blade replied. “He was attacked. I wasn’t able to save him.”

“How unfortunate,” Megatronus said, grinning back at his two followers. “It would be best if Lyric did not know. It- May make her decide to leave.”

“Yes, Megatronus,” the two followers agreed.

“Very good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, poor Anchor... He meant well...  
> Iron Blade belongs to my brother and we share Lyric and Anchor. Next chapter, we're back to Steeldust, Jazz, and Prowl.  
> Thanks for reading!  
> Credit Song: Rise - Skillet


	5. Prowl's Dilemma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl sort of has a bad day that includes multiple wrenches thrown into his plans on what should have been just a normal day.

Early the next orn, Prowl sent an information packet to Jazz. He had included everything that the investigator would need to get Steeldust set up and moved to a permanent home. Prowl was confident that all would be resolved within the decacycle.

One thing that the Praxian did not count on, was his data package being returned to him that same solarcycle.

With the message attached: wrong address.

Prowl was not pleased.

He looked up the investigator’s file in the enforcer’s database on his private computer.

Which of course had minimal information. The black and white mech kept a habit of hacking into any files that contained information about him and deleting things.

Prowl growled lowly under his breath. The sneaky investigator could have moved anytime from last offcycle to six jours ago for all he knew. Where he was now living could be around the corner from his previous apartment in Praxus, to a different city altogether.

The law enforcer knew he had been played. Jazz had had no real intention of looking to find Steeldust new caretakers. If he had, he would have given Prowl his new address. It wasn’t as if it had slipped the investigator’s mind to tell him, that was very unlike Jazz. He’d purposely neglected to tell him.

Without contacting Jazz himself, Prowl would have no way of finding him. Not even the mech’s previous neighbours or the landlord would know where he went. There was a good chance that they did not even know Jazz’s real name.

The Praxian sat lost in thought for a few klicks. It was pointless to call Jazz’s comm and demand information from him. The visor-wearing mech would just dance around the question being asked until Prowl got tired of him. He could annoy Prowl and he knew it; he would use that to his advantage too.

Still, Jazz needed to be confronted.

Opening his communication system, Prowl selected the white and black investigator’s hail frequency.

“Hey there, Prowler. What’s up?” Jazz answered almost immediately.

“Jazz,” began Prowl, controlling his voice to a level tone. “I intended to send you information on our discussion yesterday, but for some reason, the data package was returned to me.”

“Hmm, well dat’s interestin’. Ah been home fo’ most o’ da day so far,” replied Jazz cheerily.

“Jazz, there was a label on my package when it arrived back at my office,” said Prowl.

“Oh?” the investigator inquired, tone hinting he did not have to ask what the label said.

“Yes, it had a _‘wrong address’_ label on it.”

“Really? Dat ain’t like ya ta mislabel somethin’, Prowl. Ya feelin’ a’right?”

Prowl’s optic twitched. “Fine, Jazz. I am just fine. I did not mislabel the packet. I am to believe that you have changed residence.”

There was a pause, and Prowl could hear a swivel chair moving around. The law enforcer suspected that Jazz was either trying to think of a way to get out of the conversation or was dramatically looking at his surroundings.

“Well, it looks da same ta me. Don’t think Ah moved recently.”

“How recent is recently, Jazz.”

“Mmm, not exactly sure,” the investigator said vaguely.

“Where are you, Jazz,” demanded Prowl.

“In ma house,” came the quick reply.

The Praxian sighed. “Where is that located?”

“On ma street, beside ma neighbours’ house.”

“That is nice, Jazz. Where is that?”

“Beside ma place,” snickered the investigator. In the background, Prowl could hear another voice giggling.

“Jazz.”

“Prowl.”

“Where do you live?”

“On Cybertron,” Jazz snickered again. “Where da you live?”

“You know where I live, Jazz! In Praxus. You have been to my house,” snapped Prowl.

“Yeah, but ya’ve never been ta mine.”

“Jazz, I will only ask you once more. What is your place of residence?”

“Can I say hi to Prowl?” asked a voice from Jazz’s end of the comm.

“Sure, Speedy. Just talk an’ he’ll hear ya,” the investigator replied.

“Hi, Prowl!” yelled Steeldust.

“Greetings,” replied the Praxian flatly. His doorwings twitched. “Now Jazz, you were telling me something.”

“Was Ah?” asked the white and black mech lazily.

“Yes, you were.”

“Ah think Ah already told ya what ya needed ta know.”

“Really Jazz? Is this the conversation you want to have with me?”

“Nope,” said the investigator. “As Ah recall, it was you who called me.”

Prowl sat in his chair for an astroklik, not moving. Then, in one swift motion, he rose to his pedes, flipping his desk as he did. Datapads flew across the room as the piece of furniture landed on its face with a crash.

Jazz made a scolding sound. “Temper, temper.”

The enraged Praxian snarled, “Jazz! What is the matter with you?”

“Pfft, yer da one havin’ a temper tantrum, Prowler. Steeldust here is actin’ more mature dan ya at da moment. Now if ya’ll excuse me, Ah hafta take him back ta school.”

With that, Jazz shut off his comm without waiting for a reply.

Prowl stood in the middle of his ransacked office for a few klicks, trying to calm himself enough to process what he had been told. A cautious knock came from his door.

“Yes. Come in,” he growled.

The door slid open a crack and one of the other officers peered in through the opening. Seeing that no datapads were flying towards him, he opened the door enough to put his helm through.

“Officer Prowl, are you alright?” the gold and white Praxian asked carefully, surveying the room.

Prowl straightened. “Yes, I am perfectly fine.”

The other Praxian looked at him to the upside-down desk and back to Prowl. His face told Prowl that he did not believe him.

“Very well then, I will leave you to whatever business you were attending to,” he said, exiting the office and closing the door.

Prowl got to work restoring his office to order. His processor was working away at finding a solution to the missing Jazz problem. At least Steeldust was in school, but how long would the pair stay put before the investigator decided to move on?

As the Praxian was picking up the last of the datapads on the floor, he remembered something Jazz had said.

_“Ah think Ah already told ya what ya needed ta know.”_

Jazz had not told him anything. Or had he?

Prowl looked at the data packet that had been returned. Maybe the investigator had left a message with someone from the area he lived in previously. Jazz preferred giving information in secretive ways that no one could be listening to. He may have left some coded information for the law enforcer.

The Praxian left his office and headed towards the building’s entrance. On his way by the front desk, he spoke to the officer sitting at it.

“Nightracer, I will be unavailable for a time. Please let anyone who seeks me know I will be back before the orn is done.”

“Yes, sir,” acknowledged the white and blue Praxian. He glanced up from his work to watch Prowl leave. ‘It seems he has calmed down.’

* * *

Prowl transformed and walked up to the apartment building that his friend used to live in. Entering, the law enforcer strode to the elevator. After walking in and selecting the desired floor, he stood motionless, waiting.

At the second floor of the building, the elevator stopped, letting another Cybertronian in.

The bot was a mix of greys and blues in colour, with large wings attached to his back. The wings hitched upwards in surprise when their owner looked up from the datapad he was reading.

“Good orn,” the flier said hesitantly, eyeing Prowl warily as he pressed the button for the floor he was going to.

“Greetings,” replied Prowl flatly. He glanced at the newcomer, who was trying to avoid him. “You are from Vos, are you not?”

The seeker’s optics darted back to meet the law enforcer’s. “Yes,” he answered shortly, his wings stiffening. “What’s it to you, Praxian.”

Prowl’s doorwings twitched. “It was just an inquiry.”

The seeker sniffed, tossing his helm. Then, noticing again the badges on Prowl’s doorwings asked, “What’s a law enforcer doing here?”

“I’m looking for someone.”

“Oh?” The seeker rose one optic ridge. “Who would that be?”

“I do not think that is your concern.”

The seeker snorted. “If it concerns someone in the building that is my home, I believe it does.”

Prowl returned the seeker’s glare with a distrusting look. It was very clear that the Vosian didn’t welcome his presence. _“I wonder why he is here in Praxus. Seekers tend to dislike anywhere other than their own city.”_ Perhaps the seeker could be of use if he got rid of the superior attitude.

“Do you know a black and white mech-” Prowl began, refraining from using Jazz’s name.

“Pfft, that’s a common enough colour scheme. You have it yourself,” sniffed the seeker, rudely interrupting.

“He is of a slightly smaller build and height than myself. He also has doorwings- “

“What is he, your brother?”

Prowl frowned. “You did not let me finish. The mech I am searching for wears a visor and speaks in an accent native to Polyhex. He may or may not be accompanied by a navy and black youngling about the age of six or seven vorns.”

The seeker nodded in thought for a few klicks. “Yes, that sounds like someone I know. He doesn’t have a youngling though.”

“Does he live here?”

“Did until two solarcycles ago.”

“Do you happen to know where he moved to?”

Just then, the elevator stopped. The seeker walked out, talking as he went. “How am I supposed to know? I said I knew him, not that we were friends.”

With that, the seeker stalked off down the hallway and the elevator doors closed.

Prowl went up one more floor before he got out of the elevator, mulling over the information that he had been given. He walked down the hallway to where Jazz had lived in Praxus until apparently two cycles previous.

Lifting one hand, he knocked on the door to Jazz’s old apartment.

There was no answer.

A few doors down the hall, another mecha left their apartment. Prowl turned to face her.

“Oh, hello there, Officer,” the femme said in surprise as she moved towards him. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“Hello,” replied Prowl, looking down at the small Praxian femme standing a few feet in front of him. She was significantly shorter than him, middle-aged, and coloured light pink with white accents.

“Are you looking for someone, Dear?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Yes, but he seems to not be at home,” Prowl replied, hoping for more information on his situation.

The femme looked at the door he was standing in front of. “Oh. _Chrome_ doesn’t live here anymore, Sweetspark. Is he your friend? Or did he get in trouble of some sort?”

Prowl’s optic ridges rose. “No, he is not in trouble. I just needed to speak with him,” he said slowly.

“Well, that’s unfortunate you missed him. He and that sweet little youngling left just a couple solarcycles ago” said the femme sadly. “It’s too bad they moved. Chrome was such a good friend of me and my sparkmate. And Steeldust was such a darling. The poor youngling though. Such a tragedy what happened to his creators. He’s fortunate that Chrome found him you know.”

“You know about that?” asked Prowl. His doorwings twitched, wondering how much they knew about Jazz.

The femme nodded. “Yes, it really is a shame. Poor Steeldust never talked about what happened. Though he did tell me about his family a bit when over for a visit.”

“I see,” said Prowl. “Did they visit you often? Ja- I mean, Chrome, never mentioned you.”

“Yes, he did. Actually, I often took care of Steeldust when Chrome was at work,” answered the pink femme, not seeming to notice the law enforcer’s almost slip up.

“That was kind of you.”

“Oh, it was nothing. I love younglings. Mine are all grown up now, so it was wonderful to have a youngling around again.

“Oh! Where are my manners? I’m Aurora Star.”

Prowl shook the hand that was suddenly thrust to him. “My designation is Prowl.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Officer Prowl,” Aurora Star smiled. Then, she turned, motioning towards her apartment. “Would you like to come in for a cube of energon?”

“Unfortunately, I must be on my way. Thank you for the offer,” Prowl replied with a shake of his helm. “Do you happen to know where Chrome moved to?”

Aurora put her chin in her hand and thought for a moment, crossing one servo. “No, I can’t recall him mentioning it. And I wasn’t here when he left unfortunately. Odd how he just up and left. Sorry I can’t help you.”

Prowl nodded. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Aurora Star smiled up at him. “You’re welcome, Dear. I hope you can find him.”

The law enforcer watched her walk to the elevator. After she was out of sight, he glanced around. Seeing no one else, Prowl started searching the area. He didn’t see any clues that Jazz may have left him, and soon left the apartment buildings.

Driving back to his office, he pondered over the new information and what Jazz had said.

_“What could he have meant?”_

* * *

Prowl unlocked the door to his house and entered. He hadn’t found any more clues to the whereabouts of the missing investigator or youngling all day.

He was not impressed with Jazz.

The law enforcer walked down the hall to his kitchen, setting his handful of datapads on the table. He sighed heavily, there wasn’t much he could do about the situation with Steeldust. If Jazz was unwilling to cooperate, it was almost pointless. The investigator was extremely skilled in covering his tracks.

Prowl froze as he heard small pattering pedesteps from down the hall.

Silently pulling his pistol out of its holster, he cautiously moved towards the noise. He slipped around the corner, listening intently. Whoever was in his house was now silent.

The law enforcer twitched his doorwings, the sensitive appendages picking up someone in his office.

Stealthily Prowl made his way to the office door. Peering around the corner, he was somewhat shocked at what he saw.

After an astrokliks, the white and black put his weapon away and walked calmly into the room. The small mecha sitting on his desk looked up from his drawing.

“Prowl!” Steeldust exclaimed, waving a fist filled with styluses.

The law enforcer moved to stand in front of his desk. “Steeldust,” he said flatly, crossing his servos. “What are you doing here?”

Steeldust picked up the datapad he’d been working on, lifting it for Prowl to see. “Look, I coloured you a picture!”

“I see,” replied Prowl. “Where’s Jazz?”

The small youngling tilted his helm, doorwings twitching. “He had to go somewhere. Said it was a ‘mergency.”

“He left you here by yourself?” Prowl inquired, figuring that Jazz must have received an urgent situation to investigate.

Steeldust nodded his helm. “He said I had to stay here until you got home. I got to stay with you now til Jazz gets back.”

“I see,” Prowl sighed. _“I will be speaking with Jazz when he returns,”_ he thought. “Come with me, we will find some energon for you. You are likely hungry.”

The enforcer waited at the door as Steeldust slid off of the desk and onto the chair. From there, the small youngling jumped off and scrambled to follow him.

Prowl walked back down the hall towards the kitchen, the light pedesteps of Steeldust falling beside him. The mech glanced down, noting that the youngling didn’t even come up to his knee joints.

Once they reached the kitchen, the white and black pointed to one of the chairs beside the table. “You may sit there.”

Steeldust looked somewhat puzzled as Prowl walked to the counter. The navy youngling ran over to his appointed chair and looked it over. It was much too big for him, but wasn’t much different than other chairs he had climbed.

Expertly, Steeldust climbed the legs and rungs of the chair, pulling himself up once he could reach the seat.

By the time Prowl returned with energon for both of them, Steeldust was seated in the chair. The enforcer thought he looked a bit comical as only the top half of the youngling’s helm could be seen over the tabletop.

“Here,” said Prowl, setting one cube in front of his guest. He then went to sit in the other chair, examining the stack of datapads as he sipped his energon.

Steeldust peered over the edge of the table. He’d never gotten a whole cube of energon before. Never in a full-sized cube either unless he was sharing with one of his creators.

The little youngling stood up on his chair and pulled the cube carefully towards him. It was very full, and the liquid sloshed over the side, spilling onto the table.

Steeldust glanced up at Prowl, who only looked up from his datapad before sighing and getting up.

“Oops,” squeaked the youngling.

Taking a careful sip from the glass, Steeldust watched Prowl retrieve a cloth from a set of drawers by the sink. _“Those drawers would make good steps up to the counter,”_ he thought.

He would have to test that later when Prowl wasn’t looking.

The white and black mech returned and wordlessly cleaned up the spilled energon. He left the cloth nearby on the table and went back to his chair.

Steeldust finished half of the energon cube, then slid it away from him. He looked at it, then at Prowl.

“I’m done now, can I be excused?”

Prowl glanced up, noting the half empty glass. Figuring that was sufficient for a youngling he nodded. “Yes, you may. You may go back to your pictures.”

The navy and black youngling slid down the leg of his chair and wandered away. He hadn’t explored much of the small house yet. Who knew what interesting things he could find?

* * *

Prowl put the last datapad to the side and stretched. He’d finished the work he had brought home, now it was time to find his forgotten guest and put him to bed.

The enforcer rose from his chair, furrowing his brow. Come to think of it, Steeldust had been quiet since he’d left the kitchen a few breems earlier.

That likely wasn’t a good thing. Younglings apparently were prone to getting into trouble when all was silent.

Prowl walked hurriedly down the hallway, checking each room as he did. There was no sign of Steeldust in the office, washrack, or his bedroom.

Puzzled, the white and black walked back to the front room. He moved to the living room space and found the mischievous youngling.

Steeldust was laying on the couch, colouring styluses and a datapad surrounding him. The little youngling had been colouring while laying on his tank but fell asleep on the drawing he was working on. A red stylus was still clutched in the little hand.

Picking the youngling up gently, Prowl carried him to the nearby armchair. It was closer to the ground, so if Steeldust rolled off, it would hurt less. The law enforcer gently laid him down and went to the closet in the hallway.

He soon returned with a blanket, covering the small youngling with it. Satisfied that Steeldust would be comfortable, Prowl turned to clean up the mess on his couch.

The mech gathered the datapad and styluses, taking them to the kitchen.

Prowl hadn’t taken notice of what Steeldust had been drawing all evening when he picked up the drawings, but the picture displayed on the screen caught his attention.

Pausing beside the table, he set the styluses down, looking at the youngling’s drawing.

Steeldust had drawn a likeness of himself and the enforcer sitting together at the table. The drawing was fairly detailed, even including the badges on Prowl’s doorwings.

Taking a quick glance at the sleeping youngling across the large front room, Prowl looked through the rest of the drawings.

The next one on the datapad was of Steeldust sitting on Jazz’s shoulders as he walked down a street.

The one after was a picture of Steeldust and another youngling about his age, a Praxian judging from the doorwings and chevron on his forehelm.

The fourth contained four mecha standing in a row holding hands.

Prowl paused longer at this drawing. He didn’t recognize three of the mecha depicted. The tallest figure was a lanky blue and navy mech, the next was a petite red and white femme. There were two younglings with them, the smaller of the two looked to be Steeldust. The other was another mechling, coloured in a mix of light and bright blues.

_“This must have been his family,”_ Prowl thought.

He held the datapad closer to his optics, examining for any clues as to who they might be. If he could figure out the names of Steeldust’s creators, then he might be able to find some relatives.

Not finding anything, Prowl flipped to the last drawing. He would have to show this to Jazz and see what he knew once he returned.

The investigator hadn’t mentioned another youngling. If Steeldust had a brother, he also needed to be located. Jazz should also know the identity of their creators from the investigation, Prowl noted.

Steeldust’s final drawing was most surprising. It was a picture of Prowl sitting at the table, reading a datapad.

The navy youngling must have been watching the law enforcer from over the top of the couch.

Prowl furrowed his brow. Normally he knew when someone was watching him.

The white and black looked over his shoulder. Steeldust was still recharging peacefully. He had curled up, pulling the blanket closer around himself. Only the youngling’s faceplate was visible.

Walking towards his room, Prowl shut off the lights as he went. Then, reconsidering, he turned one back on for Steeldust, knowing fear of the dark was quite common for younglings. Then, he carried on to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More oc's taking form of Aurora Star and Aftershock.. :P  
> Thanks for reading!  
> Credit Song: Wolf Bite - Owl City


	6. Sparklingsitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl gets an experience in childcare.

Jazz did not return that offcycle or the next oncycle.

Prowl awoke to a pair of optics peering up at him over the edge of his berth.

The law enforcer shot up in surprise, then relaxed when he realized it was only his small houseguest.

Steeldust had stepped back a few steps when Prowl suddenly moved. He was now staring up at the Praxian, wide blue-green optics blinking.

The two mecha stared at each other for a few kliks. Then, the black and white sighed.

“Good orn, Steeldust,” he said quietly, swinging his pedes to the floor and standing up.

The navy and black youngling looked up at him, helm tilted and doorwings twitching. “Good orn, Prowl. I’m hungry.”

The law enforcer chuckled quietly to himself at the small youngling’s statement. Carefully moving around the youngling, he beckoned with a hand.

“Come along.”

Steeldust scampered after him, running to keep up.

The two entered the front room and walked into the kitchen half. Steeldust ran to his chair assigned to him previously the offcycle before.

Prowl watched as the small youngling started to climb the chair. Wordlessly, the enforcer strode over and gently placed him on the seat.

“Thank you,” grinned Steeldust.

The white and black left and was soon back with two cubes of energon, one being Steeldust’s half empty cube from the offcycle before.

Steeldust reached eagerly for the cube. Being careful not to upset it, he hungrily started drinking it.

Prowl went to his chair and sat down. He checked his comm link system for any messages. Seeing that there wasn’t any, he picked up a nearby datapad and looked up the morning news.

Reading the first article, the enforcer frowned. There again was reports of a riot in Iacon. The mecha had been protesting the unfair caste system, most of them were lower servant class.

No one had been hurt, but there were numerous reports of shop fronts owned by nobles and higher class mecha being damaged. Lots of graffiti and broken windows.

Looking at the pictures accompanying the news article, Prowl noticed the majority of the graffiti was just random paint splatters. On a closer look, however, there was one vandalism featuring Cybertronian glyphs.

The law enforcer’s frown deepened. The glyphs read, “The age of the Senate is over. A new era shall begin.”

A somewhat vague threat, but one increasing decaorn by decaorn.

The rebels often spoke of a group called the Decepticons. A gladiator named Megatronus had started their movement, speaking of the injustice of their world.

Prowl had to admit, he didn’t disagree that the Senate had some twisted rules. He even agreed with some of the gladiator’s words.

The enforcer shook his helm, starting riots and sending threats was not the way to fix the problem. If anything, it was perhaps making things worse.

The black and white mech was jerked out of his thoughts by Steeldust.

“Why are you making that face, Prowl?”

Prowl looked up, noticing the youngling was staring at him intently.

“I was reading some unsettling news, Steeldust. Nothing for you to worry about,” said Prowl, trying to reassure that there was nothing wrong.

“Okay,” nodded Steeldust. “I’m done.”

Prowl looked down; indeed, the youngling had finished his energon.

“Very good,” the enforcer nodded. “Now, Steeldust. Do you know which school you attend? Is it here in Praxus?”

Steeldust furrowed his optic ridges and tilted his helm. “Don’t you know where it is? You s’posed to know.”

Prowl’s doorwings twitched. The youngling technically was correct, he should know. His statement sounded similar to a conversation Prowl had had the previous orn with Jazz though, which irked him.

“Well,” began the enforcer levelly, placing folded hands on the table. “Jazz has not informed me of your residence or place of learning. So, you will have to tell me.”

The navy and black tilted his helm again, furrowing his optic ridges. “What’s residence mean?”

“Where you live.”

“Oh,” replied Steeldust. “I live with Jazz.”

Prowl sighed heavily. _“Not this again,”_ he thought, rubbing the chevron on his forehelm. _“What is Jazz teaching the youngling, to antagonize law enforcers?”_

“Never mind,” the black and white muttered. “Where do you go to school?”

“In Praxus,” Steeldust said. He had spotted his datapad and selected the drawing he’d been working on when he fell into recharge. Selecting his red stylus, he began colouring.

_“He must go to the school in this sector,”_ the young enforcer thought. _“I am certain Jazz would provide instructions if not.”_

“Well, I will take you there before I go to work then, Steeldust,” Prowl stated, rising from his chair. “Stay here. I’ll be ready to leave in a few kliks.”

He headed to the washrack, but before he got very far, Steeldust piped up.

“But there’s no school this oncycle. My teacher said it was an orn off.”

Prowl didn’t turn around. He spoke slowly and calmly. “What does Jazz do with you when there is a solarcycle off school?”

Steeldust was quiet for a few astrokliks, thinking to himself. Then, he turned his helm towards his host and said cheerily, “I sometimes go to work with him or he stays home with me. Or if Jazz has things to do that are too dangerous for me, I go visit ‘Rora Star and Aftershock.”

The black and white mech processed his options quickly. He didn’t wish to burden Jazz’s old neighbours with looking after Steeldust, especially on such short notice. In addition, he would not have time to take the youngling there since they lived in a different sector of the city.

That left two options.

Steeldust was too young to be left by himself. Who knew what kind of trouble he’d get into while Prowl was gone.

The law enforcer looked over his shoulder. The youngling was colouring, his glossa stuck out to the side as he concentrated.

“It seems you are to accompany me this orn then,” muttered Prowl. He then resumed his walk to the washrack.

This would be a long solarcycle.

Not to mention it would wreck his ornly routine.

* * *

Soon after, Prowl and Steeldust were on their way to the enforcer office.

Prowl had gathered more drawing material for Steeldust and had brought it along. The youngling was almost bouncing in his seat as the enforcer drove down the busy highway.

“Prowl,” Steeldust said, looking out the window.

“Yes, Steeldust?” came the enforcer’s voice through the dashboard radio.

“Are we there yet?”

“No, we are not.”

“Okay.”

There was silence for a few kliks.

Then, Steeldust started humming to himself, kicking his dangling pedes.

“Steeldust, please do not kick me,” Prowl said sternly.

“Oops, sorry,” said Steeldust, pausing from humming only for a few astrokliks.

_“This youngling does not seem to be able to sit still and be quiet for very long,”_ Prowl thought, turning down the street to the office.

Pulling up to the sidewalk, the enforcer opened a door. Steeldust rapidly hopped out and watched as Prowl transformed.

“Let’s go, Steeldust,” Prowl said, walking towards the entrance.

The youngling immediately ran to keep up and caught hold of the enforcer’s hand.

Prowl looked down in surprise at the small youngling holding his hand, skipping along beside him.

Steeldust let go of Prowl’s hand when they reached the steps. He ran back several feet the way they’d come.

“Steeldust,” the black and white said, stopping on the middle of the set of stairs. “Come this way.”

The youngling however, was not retreating as the law enforcer thought. With a determined look on his faceplate, Steeldust ran as fast as he could back towards the steps. Jumping just before he collided with the first one, the little blur flew.

Landing neatly on the third step, Steeldust grinned widely up at the astonished enforcer. He then climbed up the remaining stairs, Prowl following.

As the black and white followed, he realized he likely should have just carried the youngling up the stairs. They were not a problem for him, but Steeldust was much smaller and had to either jump from step to step or climb.

Once they reached the doors, the smaller mecha grabbed the older one’s hand again.

Prowl sighed quietly and led the way inside.

Nightracer was sitting at his desk working already. The blue and white mech looked up as Prowl entered. His optic ridges shot up, almost reaching the chevron on his forehelm, when he saw Steeldust.

“Good orn, Officer Prowl. Good orn, Steeldust,” he said, looking from one mecha to the other questioningly.

“Good orn, Nightracer,” replied Prowl as they walked by the desk. He ignored the look he was receiving.

“Hi, Nightracer!” Steeldust squealed excitedly, his free hand waving rapidly. He was soon dragged away down the hall.

A few other officers passed by the pair, either on their way to their offices or outside to begin patrol. They all greeted Prowl, who politely returned the greeting, but ignored the silent questions.

Steeldust however, waved to everyone.

Once they reached Prowl’s office, they entered the room, the enforcer closing the door behind them.

“Now,” Prowl began, releasing himself and walking around his desk. “Steeldust, I have a busy orn ahead of me, so I need you to behave yourself. Please be as quiet as you can and let me do my work. You may pick one of those chairs in front of my desk.”

Steeldust nodded, climbing up into the chair on the left. “May I have my datapad please, Prowl?”

“Yes, here you are,” replied Prowl, taking the requested item and styluses from his subspace pockets. He slid them across the desk and then took his seat, pulling several datapads out of his desk drawers.

The small youngling eagerly reached for the datapad. He accidentally knocked the styluses off the desk. They noisily fell to the floor, scattering around and underneath the chairs and desk.

“Oops! Sorry.”

Prowl looked over his datapad, raising one optic ridge and frowning. He watched as Steeldust slid off his chair and scrambled to pick up his mess. The enforcer shook his helm, going back to his report.

At least he wasn’t on patrol today. He still had a few meetings scheduled though. Hopefully the mecha would not mind a youngling sitting in on them.

* * *

Jazz didn’t return that orn.

Or the next three.

Prowl was not normally concerned. More often then not since they’d become friends, Jazz would be gone elsewhere more than he was in Praxus. The young investigator would randomly appear in Prowl’s office or on his doorstep, grin wide and visor gleaming mischievously, acting as if no time had passed.

The enforcer knew though, that there was increasingly more unrest on Cybertron. Whispers and rumours about the gladiator named Megatronus were spreading throughout the planet. Some of praise for the mech’s ideals, others of hate and malice.

The line of work Jazz was involved in had always had the potential of danger, similar to Prowl’s, but it seemed like that potential heightened daily.

Steeldust was uneasy. Which made Prowl uneasy.

The youngling attended school and came back to stay with Prowl when it was over. He was mostly quiet, often pausing from his homework or colouring to run to the window. His focus was all over the place, being constantly distracted by a noise he heard outside.

On the third orn, there was a loud commotion outside. A few mechs were fiercely arguing on the sidewalk a few buildings down the street. Prowl had left his house to go settle the dispute before it came to blows.

When he returned, Steeldust was no where to be found.

The Praxian finally found him, after calling and searching for the youngling everywhere, under his berth.

The navy and black was curled in a ball, shaking. His large blue-green optics were tightly closed and his hands were clamped over his audios. He didn’t seem to acknowledge Prowl’s presence.

Prowl frowned as he kneeled on the floor looking under the berth. His doorwings twitched as he considered the situation.

Steeldust was visibly frightened. Of what the young law enforcer was uncertain.

“Steeldust,” Prowl said gently. “Please come out. Nothing is going to hurt you.”

The youngling moved his helm slightly, opening his optics. He fearfully looked at Prowl, slowly uncovering his audios.

“Are the bad mecha gone?” he squeaked.

“He must mean the ones who were causing a disturbance outside,” thought Prowl. “Yes, there is no one going to hurt you.”

Steeldust uncurled himself and slowly crawled from underneath the berth. His optics darted around the room. “Did you scare them away?” came the small whisper.

Prowl sat up, looking down at the youngling. “Yes, they will not be causing any more trouble.”

The navy and black crouched beside the black and white, gazing up at him. Most of the fear was gone, but the youngling was still visibly nervous.

“When is Jazz comin’ home?” Steeldust whimpered, moving closer to the enforcer, his doorwings sagging.

“When he is finished his job.” Prowl stood, picking up Steeldust as he did. “Let us go finish your homework, shall we?”

Steeldust nodded, clinging to the mech’s shoulder as he walked. Once they reached the living room, the youngling carefully peered out the window.

“See? There’s nothing out there that will hurt you,” reassured Prowl. He set Steeldust carefully on the couch beside his homework, and sat down beside him.

The youngling tentatively picked up his datapad and stylus. He found where he’d left off and with one more glance at Prowl for reassurance, began to work.

The law enforcer picked up his datapad he had been reviewing. For the next two breems, the two sat together. Prowl noted that Steeldust jumped at every loud noise, his optics moving to the window. He kept them there until Prowl touched him with a doorwing, reminding him he was still there. That soothed the youngling and he would go back to his work.

Prowl however, never did. The datapad in his hand went unread. The enforcer, for a seldom time in his life, could not keep his focus on his work.

Where was Jazz? What mission had he needed to leave so suddenly for? Did he place Steeldust in Prowl’s care because he knew he would be gone this long?

Would he return this time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't think of a credit song for this one.  
> Thanks for reading!


	7. Snooping Out of Concern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A friend grieves. A couple wonders and worries.

The lanky form sped across the finish line and slid to a stop, kicking up a small cloud of dust. He straightened and walked swiftly over to his crew.

“Whooo! Lightwave, mech, you keep this up you’re going to break the record,” said one of the mechs with a wide grin. He waved the small stopwatch that he’d been using to time the racer’s laps.

Lightwave plastered on a wide grin as he took the device to see for himself.

Though the comment kind of hurt.

Not the comment itself. It was complimentary. It was whose record he would beat.

Lightwave’s best friend was the current record holder.

Even though he had witnessed Wingracer’s hollow and greyed, lifeless frame being buried alongside his sparkmate.

“That’s great,” the racer said, pushing those horrid few orns’ memories into the back of his processor.

Where they’d likely, no- Lightwave knew for certain.

They’d stay there to haunt him for the rest of his life.

“Going to go for another couple laps, Lightwave?” inquired the crew chief neutrally. The older mech studied the younger carefully, noting the faraway look in his optics. “Or do you want to work on something else?”

The green and yellow speedster grinned again, but shook his helm. “Naw, I think I’ve done enough for this orn. You all go ahead and go home, take the rest of the orn off fellas. You’ve earned it. Thanks for coming out.”

The small group thanked him and said their goodbyes. They cheerily talked to each other as they started to head out of the pits towards the locker rooms.

One of them however, stayed behind.

Lightwave watched the rest of his team go for a few kliks, a small, sad but happy smile on his faceplate.

“They’re a good team,” he muttered quietly. “I’m lucky to have them.”

The crew chief moved closer to stand beside him. “We’re lucky to have you, Lightwave. You are one of the best and kindest racers to work with.”

With a chuckle, the racer shook his helm. “No. I’m pretty sure you mechs could find somebody better.”

The pair stood in silence for several kliks. Lightwave looked up into the empty stands, the chief quietly watched him.

“They’re- You all are-“ Lightwave corrected himself, gesturing to the older mech. “More than just my team. You’re my friends too.”

The crew chief hummed in gratitude. “We consider you as ours, mechling.”

He was quiet again. He had known Lightwave long enough to know that he had something on his mind and was trying to find exactly how to say it.

Racers were often a chatty bunch, but there were times when even they were at loss for words.

Lightwave had been quieter than he normally was lately.

_“Maybe now,”_ thought the chief, _“He’ll let it out.”_

“I- I’m realizing just how much I take mecha, especially my friends, for granted,” Lightwave finally said, voice thick. “I don’t want to do that anymore.”

Even though his faceplate was turned away from him, up towards the stands, the chief knew there were tears in the racer’s optics.

“Sometimes, we don’t realize how much of a good thing we have until it’s gone,” the older mech mused. He reached over and placed a hand on the younger mech’s shoulder. “But you were a good friend to him, Light. Don’t ever tell yourself you weren’t.”

“I feel- Helpless. Like there had to be something I could do. But-“ Lightwave lowered his helm. “There’s nothing. Nothing. And I keep thinking of things I wish I’d said to Wing. To Harmony too. Now I can’t.”

The chief’s faceplate grew grim as he listened. “Let’s go and sit down.”

He guided his young friend to the nearest bleacher seat and sat down.

Immediately, Lightwave flopped himself down beside the chief. He sat, slumped forward with his servos resting on his knee joints.

“I still can’t believe they’re gone, mech. It was- So sudden.”

“None of us were ready for something so horrible like that,” replied the chief. “And you are right, there’s nothing you could have done. Things like this happen sometimes, as unfortunate and sparkbreaking as it is. Unfortunately, it happened to Wingracer and Harmony.”

“But why them?”

The chief shook his helm. “I don’t know, Lightwave. I really don’t know.”

Lightwave looked across the track. He spread his hands as he shook his helm. “One orn, we were out there, training and racing together. Harmony was up there with the two younglings.” He paused, turning his helm towards where they’d sat as he gestured with a digit.

“Next orn, I didn’t get a response when I tried to call Wing for something. I figured he was busy, and that I could call him again later. But I had this feeling that something was wrong, I don’t know how or why.”

The crew chief nodded his helm soberly as he listened. “You were awful restless that orn I recall.”

Lightwave turned his helm to look at his friend. “And then I went home that offcycle.”

“And saw it on the news,” guessed the older mech quietly.

“Yeah.”

“Bet that was hard to watch.”

A short, harsh laugh came out of Lightwave’s voice box. He turned back to the track in front of them. “I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I didn’t want to hear it. But I couldn’t get up and turn the holovid off.

“I couldn’t move. All I could do was watch as they talked about it.”

Lightwave wiped a hand over his faceplate, shaking his helm.

“Not until after they’d moved on did I try and comm them again. Obviously, I got no reply.”

“And then you went to the crime scene?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, mechling. I heard that you made an appearance there, but I’d hoped the sighting was wrong for your sake.”

“I don’t care about what the public and the press think,” growled Lightwave. “I had to see if it was true.”

“That’s not what I meant,” the chief corrected. “I hoped that you hadn’t been there because no one should have to see their best friend, or any friend, like that.”

“Oh. Sorry I snapped at you.”

“It’s fine, Lightwave. I know you didn’t mean to.”

Lightwave suddenly jerked his helm up. “Do you know what happened to the younglings?”

“Wingracer and Harmony’s? I’m not certain, no.” The chief tilted his helm as he studied his friend. “Why do you ask?”

“I just thought of this now. What’s gonna happen to them? Or how are they dealing with their creator’s offlining?” Lightwave looked to the chief in horror. “The poor younglings.”

The chief frowned. “How old are they again? There’s a bit of an age gap, right?”

“The older one is fourteen vorns and the little one’s seven.”

“Hmm. Too young to be on their own, legally or not. Wingracer didn’t have any family, but Harmony did, right?”

Lightwave nodded slowly. “I think she had a sister in Polyhex.”

“She might be your best bet in finding them. Or the older one’s school. But they might not tell you if they don’t know your connection to the family. Right now, if he’s still there, they’ll be very wary of anyone asking for him.”

Lightwave stood up. “I’ll try and contact the older one’s school first. He was attending the private one near here in Iacon. Blurr should know what happened to his brother.”

The racer paused, furrowing his optic ridges. “If not, ill try and contact Harmony’s sister. I don’t think they were on good terms for some reason, but maybe this will have given her a change of spark about her family.”

The crew chief nodded. “Good luck, Lightwave.”

“Thanks, Chief. For everything.”

“You’re welcome, Lightwave.”

With a small smile and a wave, the iridescent yellow and green mech started off towards the exit.

“Lightwave!”

The lanky racer stopped and turned his helm back to the mech on the bleachers, a questioning look on his faceplate.

The crew chief gave him a stern, but kind look in return. “If you ever need anything, even just a listening audio, give me a call.”

A more genuine smile found its way to Lightwave’s faceplate. “I will. Thank you.”

The crew chief remained where he was long after his racer had left.

Lightwave was taking his best friend’s offlining hard, maybe harder than he had guessed.

At least he wasn’t truly blaming himself or anything. Just, a bit lost and looking for answers.

Which was understandable.

The mech smiled sadly. He’d been around here for a long time, long enough to have been there before Lightwave and Wingracer appeared on the racing scene as juniors.

From orn one here, the chief had observed that they’d stuck together like glue. A friendly rivalry in the races, sure. But they always trained together, discussed things together, and went to school together.

Where one was, often the other was too.

At least until they grew up and Wingracer got bonded and moved to Polyhex. But even then, they still made time to hang out in their downtime.

No wonder Lightwave was so lost and lonely.

The mech he’d grown up with was suddenly ripped out of his life. Forever.

The crew chief shook his helm. He hadn’t known Wing as well as he did Lightwave, but he’d watched the mechling grow up.

It was hard to know he wouldn’t get to talk to the bright, lively racer ever again.

Wingracer hadn’t deserved this.

Neither had his sparkmate.

Neither had his younglings.

_“If I can make it up to them somehow, I will,”_ decided the crew chief, getting to his pedes. _“We’ll see if the younglings show up here some orn. Perhaps, like Lightwave was hinting at, we can’t invest in friendships we’ve lost, but we can with ones we have. Now and future ones.”_

* * *

“Yer scrubbing that dish so hard yer gonna wear it all away.”

The femme paused and turned her helm to look over her shoulder.

The broad bronze and green mech seated at the table grinned at her. Leaning back in his chair, he placed his hands behind his helm and quirked an optic ridge.

Aurora Star sighed, then gave her sparkmate a small smile before turning back to the sink.

As she resumed washing the dishes, she spoke. “I am worried, Aftershock.”

“Bout that cop that was snooping around earlier?”

“Sort of.” Aurora paused, turning back towards the rest of the kitchen. “What do you think of it?”

The construction worker looked up at the ceiling in thought for several kliks.

“From what you told me; I think he sounds like he’s that friend of Jazz’s that he’s told us about. Mech’s name was Prowl wasn’t it?”

Aurora nodded, wringing the towel in her hands. “Yes.”

“That was Jazz’s buddy’s name I think,” said Aftershock with a shrug. Then, he smirked. “That mechling is a sneak I tell ya. Poor enforcer’s looking for him and he’s off to who knows where.”

Giving him a look, Aurora placed her hands on her hips. “Except you. And I think the two mechling’s have quite the little handful to look after.”

Aftershock’s smirk grew wider. “Ya mean Steeldust? Think Jazz will let Prowl know where he went?”

“I am sure he will.” The femme then frowned, shaking her helm. “Eventually. But I do think that Prowl will end up helping him take care of Steeldust. Primus knows he’ll need all the help he can get.”

“Yeah,” nodded Aftershock. “Jazz is a busy mech. And Steeldust will keep him even more on his pedes.

“He’s a good mech. I’ll miss having him next door.”

Taking the seat next to her sparkmate, Aurora Star nodded. “So will I. Both of them.”

Aftershock took one of Aurora’s small hands in one of his large ones.

“They’ll be alright, ‘Rora. And they promised to visit.”

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I have too many oc's... Perhaps?  
> Thanks for reading!  
> Credit Song: Living Without You - Beth Crowley


	8. Petrorabbits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We now return to Prowl and his unwanted houseguest.

Steeldust hopped out of Prowl’s alt mode. With a quick wave, he took off towards the school’s entrance.

Prowl waited until the youngling was safely inside before pulling away from the sidewalk. He drove down the road, heading to the enforcer office.

Once inside, the small youngling ran through the halls, his optics darting back and forth. Spying who he was looking for down an adjacent corner, Steeldust grinned and skidded to a stop.

Backtracking rapidly, the navy and black stealthily walked up behind a grey and black youngling his age.

The youngling was preoccupied with the datapad he was holding and didn’t see the incoming Steeldust. Suddenly, he felt something brush up against his doorwings.

With a slight screech, the grey Praxian jumped.

As his friend spun to see what touched him, Steeldust zipped around behind, neatly catching the datapad that had been thrown.

The grey youngling hadn’t seen Steeldust, and stood scratching his helm. Wondering if it had just been his imagination, he turned back to look for his datapad.

And let out a yelp as it was thrust towards him.

“Steeldust!” the little Praxian yelled, snatching his datapad from the offending mecha’s servo. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

Even though he was glaring at him, Steeldust just grinned. The navy and black was slightly taller than him, so if he stood on the tips of his pedes, he could glare at him at optic level.

Steeldust glanced down when his friend was suddenly a few inches taller. His grin grew broader as he snickered. “What are you doing, Blue?”

Bluestreak stood flat on the ground again and crossed his servos. “It’s not fair. You’re faster _and_ taller than me. And sneakier.”

His friend shrugged, doorwings copying the motion. “You’re just mad cause I scared you. Again.”

“Cause you did!” Bluestreak protested. “You don’t like being snuck up behind either.”

Steeldust ducked away out of reach as the Praxian youngling lunged for his doorwings. Bluestreak missed and kept after him. Steeldust kept dancing away, just out of reach. He let Bluestreak get almost close enough to touch him, but then darted away just in time.

The two younglings ran down the hall, around other students, giggling and laughing as they went.

Until they bumped into someone who deliberately stepped in Steeldust’s way. Bluestreak collided with Steel a few astrokliks after, sending them both to the floor.

“Oof,” the navy youngling said, glancing up to see who they’d run into.

The mecha was another youngling, a few vorns older than them. He was about a foot taller, coloured primarily white with some red and blue.

He looked down at the two mischief makers and grinned. “Hey Steeldust. Hi Bluestreak.”

“Smokescreen!” Bluestreak yelled. He removed himself from on top of Steeldust. “Good orn!”

“How come you’re happier to see him than me?” wondered Steeldust as Smokescreen pulled him up. “Hi, Smokescreen.”

Bluestreak glanced at Steeldust, twitching his doorwings in annoyance. “Cause he didn’t scare me.”

Smokescreen rose an optic ridge. “Okay... You two are weird. What were you doing before you crashed into me?”

A mischievous glint came into Steeldust’s optics. “We were playing tag.”

He lunged towards Smokescreen, tapping the older youngling on the servo, and pranced away out of reach. “And you’re it!”

Bluestreak ran, his bright blue optics wide, as Smokescreen gave chase. He hoped the older youngling would go for Steeldust. Blue didn’t want to be ‘it’ again. Smokescreen was faster than him.

But not faster than Steeldust.

With a smirk, Steeldust took one more look and bolted. He was soon far ahead of the others.

The two Praxians paused, blinking in awe, as they watched their friend zip around a corner and vanish.

“That’s not fair,” Smokescreen said, throwing up his hands. “How are we supposed to catch him when he does that?”

“I don’t know,” replied Bluestreak.

Just then, the bell rang. The students who had moved to the sides of the hall to avoid the game of tag now headed to their classes.

Smokescreen and Bluestreak went their separate ways.

“Bye, Smokescreen.”

“See you later, Blue.”

As Bluestreak hurried along, he wondered if Steeldust was already in their classroom or on the other side of the building somewhere.

* * *

Silver looked out across her classroom. Most of her students were busy with their work. A few were gazing out the windows or at nothing in particular, either thinking about their test or lost in thought.

Steeldust was one of the latter.

Silver sighed and walked around her desk. Moving quietly through the rows of younglings, she gently tapped the ones not focusing on their shoulder. They went back to their test, remembering what they were supposed to be doing instead of daydreaming.

Once the lavender and grey femme reached the back of her classroom, she moved to the corner desk, where the last daydreamer sat.

“Steeldust,” she said softly, leaning down to place a slim hand on his shoulder. “Is there something bothering you?”

Silver cared about all her students, but this one in particular needed extra care she felt. His present guardian and caretaker had told her a bit about why Steeldust was an orphan, and she could tell the youngling was still deeply hurting.

The little seven-vorn-old shook his helm and looked back to his test. Which was already finished.

The teacher rose her optic ridges, pursing her lip plates as she did. Many of the other students were, at the most, half done their tests.

Silver scanned the datapad. The answers looked to be mostly correct.

“Please stay after class, Steeldust,” she whispered gently. “I’d like to talk to you.”

“Okay,” replied Steeldust with a nod. He flicked his doorwings nervously. He wondered if he was in trouble. He couldn’t remember doing anything bad. Maybe he’d been fidgeting too much or was distracting the others again.

As if reading his racing processor, Silver smiled and added, “Don’t worry, you are not in trouble.”

Steeldust watched as his teacher walked back to her desk. _“Wonder why she wants me to stay then.”_

The navy and black scanned the room. Everyone else was still working on their test. He furrowed his brow. There were other younglings in his class that were smarter than him. Shouldn’t they be done too?

Giving up puzzling over it, Steeldust resumed looking out the nearby window. A petrorabbit hopped tentatively across the empty playground, catching the youngling’s optic.

_“A petrorabbit! Maybe it’ll play with me!”_ thought Steeldust excitedly.

Taking a quick glance at the teacher, who was helping another student, Steeldust slid out of his seat. Being in the far corner had its advantages.

Carefully, Steeldust silently crept to the window. It was closed, but that wouldn’t stop him for long. He pulled himself onto the edge and reached up to unlock it. Hopping quietly back down to the floor, he pushed the window open just enough for him to squeeze out.

With one more look behind him, Steeldust wriggled through the open space and dropped to the ground below. Landing in a roll, he stopped and sat up.

The petrorabbit was still there.

Grinning wildly, Steeldust crept closer, keeping low to the ground. The creature had stopped to nibble on something it found interesting in the play area. If it noticed the youngling stalking it, it didn’t pay him any mind.

At least not until Steeldust was right behind it.

The petrorabbit jerked its helm around suddenly, it’s large audios twitching. Spying the youngling, it immediately bolted.

Steeldust rapidly followed.

“Hey! Come back!” the youngling yelled, scaring the poor creature even more.

The petrorabbit ran in and out around the playground equipment, trying to lose his would-be captor. The mecha chasing him surprisingly was keeping up with him. The petrorabbit had never seen a mecha this fast and it terrified him. What if it wanted to eat him?

Meanwhile, inside the classroom, Bluestreak had looked over at the desk beside him to see how his friend was doing on the test. Seeing the empty chair, the little Praxian looked around, rather puzzled.

Movement outside caught his optic and Bluestreak’s doorwings shot straight up as his mouth dropped open in shock.

Steeldust was outside. Chasing a petrorabbit.

Blue watched as the pair ran all around the schoolyard in a wild chase. He didn’t know how Steeldust had gotten outside, but there he was.

The grey and black youngling was so distracted by the scene outside, that he hadn’t noticed that he stood up on his chair.

“Bluestreak, what are you doing?” the teacher asked from the front of the classroom.

Bluestreak turned his helm to her, face still frozen in surprise, and simply pointed towards the nearest window.

Silver followed the youngling’s pointing digit, as did the rest of the class.

“Steeldust!” she exclaimed. “He was just in his seat a klik ago!”

* * *

The classroom door opened, revealing a dirty youngling, proudly holding his prey.

The petrorabbit looked absolutely traumatized. Steeldust looked absolutely thrilled with his accomplishment.

He glanced around the room and was met with over a dozen pairs of optics.

His teacher and fellow students were all staring at him in some sort of shock, amazement, or incredulousness.

Bluestreak was standing on his chair, his mouth still hanging open.

Steeldust looked around again, somewhat confused. He then shrugged and trudged in, kicking the door so it would close behind him. The petrorabbit made no move to get away as it dangled from its captor’s arms.

Striding proudly over to Silver’s desk, he reached up and with some effort, placed the frozen petrorabbit on top.

“Look what I caught!” he cried gleefully, throwing up his hands.

The students and teacher looked at the petrorabbit. The petrorabbit looked at them.

All was quiet until one youngling spoke up.

“How’d you catch a petrorabbit? Nobody can catch them!” he yelled.

The petrorabbit, brought back from its shock, screamed and launched itself off the desk.

As the creature ran around the classroom, trying to get away from the mecha, all remaining sense of order vanished.

Chaos reigned free as students either climbed on their desk and screamed or ran after the terrified creature. Silver yelled over the noise for everyone to sit down, but was drowned out and unheard.

The petrorabbit spied the open window and leapt through it.

A collective sigh of disappointment or relief followed. A dozen younglings ran to the window, searching for where the petrorabbit had went.

It was long gone.

And it was likely never coming back.

* * *

Silver leaned against the front of her desk; servos crossed. She looked down at the small youngling standing in front of her and sighed.

The thin youngling’s doorwings sagged and he hung his helm. His hands fidgeted with his digits, waiting for her to speak.

Kneeling to be on his level, Silver began. “Steeldust, why did you leave your desk and the classroom?”

“I saw the petrorabbit and wanted to play with it,” came the seven-vorn-old’s reply. “I finished my test and was bored.”

“You need to ask for permission to leave before class is over, Steeldust,” Silver said gently. “I understand that you wanted to play, but you need to follow the rules, okay?”

Steeldust looked up at her and nodded his helm. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And,” Silver continued, giving him a pointed look. “We should probably leave the nearby petrorabbit population, alone shall we? I’m not sure how you managed to catch one, but they don’t belong inside.”

“Yes, Silver.”

Silver thought a klik, then smiled. “I guess your friends were right when they said you’re faster than a petrorabbit weren’t they?”

The navy youngling giggled and nodded. His doorwings perked back up to normal. “Smokescreen was right. He said I probably could catch one.”

Silver laughed lightly. “Bluestreak must not have believed it though, he was very shocked.”

Steeldust nodded. “I thought he was broken when he just stood there all froze up.”

“Well, I won’t send you to the head office this time, Steeldust,” Silver said. “But no more running off in the middle of class.”

“Yes, Silver, I won’t.”

“Good,” the young teacher nodded. “Now, the reason I originally asked you to stay. I have noticed that on most orns, you finish your work well ahead of the majority of the class. Are the lessons too easy for you, Steeldust?”

The navy and black tilted his helm. One doorwing flicked as he thought. “I don’t know. Am I s’posed to do my work slower?”

Silver shook her helm. “No, it is not a problem if you finish early. You do well and get most of the answers correct. I just wondered if you need to be moved up. Have you learned what I am teaching you before?”

“No, I never learned it yet.”

“Hmm, alright. I will speak to your guardian and see what he thinks. Is he coming to pick you up today, Steeldust?”

The youngling furrowed his brow. “I don’t know. Jazz might not be home yet. Prowl might be coming to get me again.”

“I see,” Silver said, her tone concerned. “Is this Prowl a friend of Jazz’s?”

Steeldust nodded, his helm bobbing rapidly. “Yes, they’re bestest friends.”

“Okay. And are you comfortable with Prowl?”

“He’s nice. He doesn’t talk as much as Jazz though.”

Silver chuckled. “Well, let’s go see if he or Prowl is here yet, shall we?”

Steeldust nodded as his teacher stood, taking the hand that was held out to him. The pair walked out of the classroom and made their way to the front doors.

Once outside, Silver scanned the yard. She didn’t see the black and white mech that was Steeldust’s guardian. “Do you see Prowl, Steeldust?”

The youngling pointed to a mech standing by the street. “He’s over there! Hi Prowl!”

Silver followed Steeldust’s gaze. _“Hmm, an enforcer. Interesting. He does not look exactly happy to be here.”_

Prowl was standing still, observing his surroundings. His doorwings twitched, the sensitive appendages likely picking up even more than the enforcer’s keen optics.

The black and white looked over as teacher and student approached. His expression turned from disinterest to mild curiosity.

“Hello, sir. You must be Prowl?” Silver inquired once they were in talking distance.

“Yes, I am,” he replied. Glancing from the femme to the youngling he inquired, “And you might be?”

“I am Steeldust’s teacher, Silver.”

“Greetings. Since you are escorting Steeldust to me later than school is normally finished for the orn, am I to presume that there is a problem?”

Silver rose one optic ridge, setting a hand on her hip. “Are you pressed for time? I can speak to you or Jazz at another time if so. Speaking of Jazz, Steeldust told me he is away?”

“Yes, he has placed him in my care until his return,” Prowl replied. “If there is an issue, you can speak to me about it if you wish.”

“Alright then,” nodded Silver. She looked down at Steeldust who had been observing the conversation silently. “You may go play with the other younglings while you wait, Steeldust.”

“Okay! Can I Prowl?” the little youngling asked eagerly, gazing up at the enforcer.

“Yes-“Prowl began. He stopped when Steeldust suddenly bolted for the playground. The enforcer stood, blinking, as he watched the youngling reach his destination in much less time than an average youngling his size and age would take.

A grey and black youngling with doorwings and a red chevron on his helm ran over to meet Steeldust. The two began playing together, joining several other younglings.

Seeing the enforcer’s surprise at Steeldust’s sudden hasty retreat, Silver lowly chuckled. “Am I to assume you have not seen Steeldust run that fast yet or often?”

Prowl directed his gaze back to the teacher. “No, I have not. Is this normal for him?”

Silver placed both hands on her hips. “Quite actually. That is partially why I wished to talk to you or Jazz.”

“What has Steeldust done?”

“Calm down, he has not gotten into any major trouble,” Silver replied with a smile. “He is a little bit of a handful, yes, but he means well.

“I’ve noticed that in addition to his high speed in his moving about, I believe his processor moves faster than the average youngling as well. Steeldust usually finishes his schoolwork well before the rest of the class.”

Prowl furrowed his brow. “Are you proposing that he needs to be moved up a grade?”

“I am uncertain. I asked Steeldust if my lessons were too easy or if he had learned the material before, but he answered no. He does well in class and with the work I give him, but I thought I would inquire of how he seems to do at home.”

“I confess, Jazz would be able to answer you better,” Prowl replied. Glancing towards the playground, he continued. “I have only known Steeldust for six orns now.”

Silver stared up at Prowl, confusion and concern evident on her face. “Excuse me? Something does not add up here. Steeldust told me that you and his current caretaker are best friends. I know for a fact that Steeldust has attended this school and my class for roughly two jours. Jazz says he has been taking care of him for three jours. How is it that you have just met Steeldust this past decaorn?”

Prowl frowned. “Jazz does not always tell me everything. I had not seen him for a few jours before he appeared in my office with Steeldust. And it seems that one of us has been told incorrect information. Jazz told me Steeldust has been in his care for only two jours, not three.”

“Well, I suppose you will have to take that up with him, won’t you?” Silver challenged, crossing her servos. “If it were not for the fact that Steeldust knows and is comfortable around you, I would not let him go with you, enforcer or not. And you better be good to him, I will know if you are not.”

“I beg your pardon, but I believe you have the wrong impression of me,” said Prowl, forcing his tone to stay level. “If that is all you wish to speak with me about, we will take our leave.”

Silver eyed him carefully for a few kliks. “I suppose. Please ask Jazz to comm me when he returns.”

Prowl dipped his helm politely. “I will be sure to do that.”

“Good.”

With that, Silver strode off, helm held high.

Prowl watched as she walked over to the playground. He was not quite sure what to think of Steeldust’s teacher. It was evident that she cared greatly for his well-being. Prowl had not expected the small, lithe femme to challenge him. Many mecha would not dare challenge a law enforcer, not exactly from fear of them, but not wishing to be on their bad side.

“Steeldust, Bluestreak. Come here, please,” Silver called from the edge of the play area.

The two younglings made their way over to her.

“Yes, Silver?” asked Bluestreak, venting hard from running.

“Steeldust has to go home now, Bluestreak,” the young teacher said. “Your carrier just arrived so you should go too.”

Her words were met with complaints from the two younglings.

“You two can play again next orn. What were you two doing? You’re both filthy!” Silver brushed the dirt off their faceplates. “Where you rolling in the dirt?”

“No, Smokescreen tackled us!” Bluestreak said, trying to wriggle away.

“I see,” said Silver, straightening to her full height. “You two better go now. Shoo!”

“Yes, Silver. Bye!” the two younglings chorused. They then took off running, waving to the silver and purple femme as they ran.

“Bye, Bluestreak!” Steeldust yelled as he and his friend parted ways.

“Bye Steeldust!” returned Bluestreak.

Steeldust slid to a stop in front of Prowl. “Hi Prowl, did Silver finish talking to you?”

“Yes, Steeldust. What were you doing? You are covered in dirt,” said the enforcer, examining the youngling.

Steeldust looked down at himself, then up at Prowl. “I chased a petrorabbit earlier and I had to tackle it to catch it. And then just now, Smokescreen tackled me and Bluestreak.”

Prowl’s blue optics widened. “You caught a petrorabbit?”

Steeldust nodded vigorously. “Yeah! But it got away when I brought it inside.”

The white and black Praxian switched his gaze to the young teacher standing near the playground. A smug smile played on Silver’s faceplate as if she took great amusement in his surprise. She seemed to know exactly what Steeldust had just told him.

“What did your teacher say about that?” Prowl asked, not looking away from Silver.

“She said not to leave class without asking anymore,” Steeldust replied. “But she didn’t send me to the office.”

“I see,” responded Prowl. He finally looked back at Steeldust. “Let us head home, Steeldust.”

“Okay,” the navy and black skipped ahead to edge of the sidewalk to wait for Prowl to transform into his alt mode. “Do you think Jazz will be back?”

“I am uncertain, Steeldust.” Prowl took one more glance at Silver before transforming and opening a door for the youngling.

Steeldust hopped in and the enforcer drove away.

As Steeldust told him more of the story of how he had caught the petrorabbit, Prowl wondered about the youngling under his care more than he did previously.

* * *

Near the beginning of the offcycle, Prowl and Steeldust sat at the table with their energon. Both perked up when they heard a knock at the front door.

Prowl got up from his chair and went to answer it. Steeldust stood on his chair, leaning on the table to try and see around the corner.

The enforcer opened the door, revealing a slightly shorter mech wearing a visor and wide grin.

“Hey Prowler.”

Before Prowl could reply, a clatter was heard from the kitchen. A navy and black blur shot between the enforcer and the door frame, launching itself at the newcomer.

“JAZZ!” shrieked Steeldust as he clung to the mech’s knee joints.

The investigator picked up the youngling. “Hey there, Zipper. Somebody’s excited.”

“Hello, Jazz,” said Prowl, moving so his friend could enter the house.

The two mechs and youngling went inside, Prowl closing the door behind them. Jazz picked up Steeldust’s fallen chair and sat down, setting the youngling on his lap.

Prowl retrieved another cube of energon and placed it in front of the investigator.

“How’ve things been round here?” Jazz inquired.

“Fine,” replied Prowl. “Though you have some explaining to do, Jazz.”

The investigator momentarily winced. “Ah will, but later. Ah’m sorry Ah dropped Steel an’ left so sudden. Ah had ta run.”

Prowl nodded, satisfied with the promise of answers. “We made it work.”

“Were ya good fo’ Prowl?” Jazz asked the youngling finishing his energon.

Steeldust looked at Prowl. Then at Jazz. “I tried to be.”

“He was fairly well behaved,” Prowl added. “Though my kitchen drawers were used as a set of stairs.

“Also, his teacher wishes for you to contact her when it is convenient for you.”

Jazz rose an optic ridge. “Oh? Ya met Silver did ya?”

“Yeah, they talked while me and Blue played,” Steeldust said happily. “I think she told him off bout something.”

Jazz smirked. “Is dat right? So, who does she wanna talk ta me bout? You or Prowl?”

The navy youngling tilted his helm in thought as Prowl scowled at the investigator.

“I don’t know.”

With a laugh, Jazz directed his visored gaze at Prowl. “Do you know?”

“I believe I do not have to answer that, Jazz,” replied Prowl.

The three talked for awhile about what went on in Praxus while Jazz was gone. Prowl noticed that Steeldust was more relaxed than he had been for four orns.

“Guess what Jazz!” Steeldust suddenly exclaimed.

“You an’ Bluestreak got Smokescreen in trouble?” Jazz questioned.

“No,” Steeldust shook his helm, laughing.

“Uh... Ya scared Prowler?”

“No!” Steeldust laughed again. “You only got one more guess, Jazz.”

“Huh, Ah better make it good then,” Jazz said with a grin. He leaned his helm back and thought for a few astrokliks, then looked back down at Steeldust. “Ya missed me?”

The youngling nodded rapidly. “Yes, but that’s not what you were s’posed to guess.”

“Well, ma guesses are up. Ya gonna tell me anyways?”

“I caught a petrorabbit this orn at school!” Steeldust exclaimed excitedly.

Jazz looked at Prowl. “He did what?”

“Apparently he caught a petrorabbit when he was supposed to be in class,” Prowl remarked.

The enforcer then finished his energon and took the empty cube to the sink. “His teacher did not inform me of this, but she seemed to overhear Steeldust telling me. She appeared unconcerned about it.”

The investigator snickered. “Ah don’t think much fazes dat femme, Prowl. She ain’t afraid o’ anythin’ either.”

Prowl said nothing but returned to take his guests’ empty cubes.

“Well, Steel. Ah think it’s time fo’ homework?” Jazz asked, setting the youngling on the floor.

“Okay,” said Steeldust, wandering off to find his datapad.

“Why don’t ya go do it in Prowl’s room? Ah got some things Ah need ta talk ta him bout.”

Steeldust tilted his helm and doorwings, then nodded. He shortly disappeared down the hall.

Prowl returned to his chair. He waited silently for Jazz to begin.

“So, Ah gather that ya must’ve found something out?” inquired the investigator.

Picking up a datapad from the table and turning it on, Prowl silently scrolled through until he found what he wanted. He turned the datapad around and slid it towards Jazz.

Jazz looked to see what Prowl wanted to show him. It was a drawing of four mecha, done by Steeldust.

“Who are they Jazz? What was the motive behind their murder? And where is the older youngling?” Prowl asked.

Jazz sighed. “This is gonna take awhile.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit Song: Leading the Pack - Sam Tinnesz  
> Thanks for reading!


	9. Explanations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a recap here, lots of dialogue and stuff we, as readers and writer, already know, but certain characters do not. Let's just say the chapter is called Explanations for a reason.. Hopefully, it is still enjoyable.

“Start with where you disappeared to for five orns without explanation,” Prowl said, folding his hands on the table in front of him.

“Alright,” Jazz said. “Ah got an urgent request ta investigate a plan ta assassinate a Tower mech. A friend o’ mine, a data clerk, came across a correspondence between what seemed ta be a crime boss an’ someone in Iacon. Couldn’t figure out who dey were, but we got da hitmech.

“Whoever the fella in Iacon was, they wanted the noble offline bad enough dat he went ta da crime boss fo’ help. They seem ta be friends. The recorded conversation basically was dat this higher up fella didn’t wanna dirty his own hands an’ wished fo’ the target ta be offlined in a way dat looked accidental. The crime boss said he knew someone dat could do it.

“We set up an ambush an’ got da hitmech before he could do his job. Don’t know da specifics o’ why dis Tower mech was wanted offlined, but he’s being watched fo’ any more attacks.”

“I see. And what of the attacker?” Prowl inquired.

“He’s in prison bein’ questioned,” replied Jazz. He shook his helm. “They ain’t got nothin’ out o’ him yet. We just got him last offcycle.”

Prowl frowned. “Why would one higher caste mech target another?”

The investigator shrugged. “There’s lots o’ reasons. Some o’ them higher caste mecha are pretty petty when it comes ta being wronged. But we should be able ta get some answers from da hitmech.”

“It is strange that they would not use a secure connection,” Prowl mused. “It is well enough known that every none secure comm conversation goes to the Hall of Records. Any crime boss still functioning definitely would take precautions.”

“Unless they’re takin’ a risk ta get someone in jail,” Jazz returned. “Dat’s ma guess.”

“Hmm, perhaps.” Prowl tapped the datapad displaying Steeldust’s drawing. “Now this, Jazz?”

“Dat would be a picture of Steeldust’s creators, his brother, an’ himself,” said Jazz, lifting the datapad to examine it closer. “First drawing Ah’ve seen him do of ‘em.”

“I deduced their identities as his family,” Prowl said, leaning forward. “But who are they, Jazz? You said a few orns ago that his creators had been shot through the helm and spark. In addition, that their murderer attempted to do the same to Steeldust. Yet, you failed to even mention a second youngling.”

“Ah intended ta tell ya more, Prowl,” Jazz said quietly. “Unfortunately, my plans got changed. Steeldust’s brother is still online, but he doesn’t know. Ah’d like to keep it that way for now.”

Prowl looked at Jazz, twitching his doorwings. “How can Steeldust not know his brother’s online? They should have a bond even though their creators’ bonds no longer exist.”

Jazz shook his helm. “You’re right. They should. But they don’t.

“A few orns after I found Steeldust at the site of his creators’ murder, he broke down like he was that orn they offlined. I didn’t know what was wrong, just assumed that he was still upset, which he was. But this was different. Through his crying, I got a few words from him. He said he couldn’t feel his brother anymore, just like he couldn’t feel his creators. He was worried that the mecha that offlined them had got his brother too.

“I didn’t know about a second youngling yet, but immediately agreed.

“After Steeldust calmed down, he just sat there. For four orns. Doing nothing, saying nothing. He didn’t even move.”

Prowl watched as Jazz stopped, rubbing his face.

“But, if their bond is nonexistent, then—“ Prowl trailed off, realizing what had happened. “His brother broke their bond. Intentionally,” the enforcer voiced his realization.

“Yes, he did,” said Jazz sadly. “That possibility wouldn’t even occur to Steeldust.”

“No, it would not. Why would his brother take this action? They need each other now more than ever,” Prowl remarked.

“Ah know. Ah think he’s really hurtin’. Probably didn’t know what happened an’ had no way o’ findin’ out til it was in da news. He’s still fairly young too, he’d be scared an’ alone. The combined pain o’ da two brothers would be affecting them both. From what the older youngling did an’ didn’t say, my guess is dat he broke their bond ta try an’ help them. But it’s hard to say, the youngling would barely talk ta me.”

“You have found him then?”

“Yeah, he’s in Iacon. Their creators had him in a private school where he boards. He’s got no intention of leaving ta live with anyone else. Refuses ta even see his brother.” Jazz shook his helm as an exasperated look came across his face. “Dat youngling...”

“What?” Prowl asked.

“Ya’d think he was a youngling of a noble da way he acts. Ah think it could be just part o’ an act, but he’s a snobby, selfish brat. Other than looks, ya wouldn’t know he an’ Steeldust are related,” Jazz mused. He paused, then added, “Well, dey are both extremely fast. When dey get goin’ all ya really see is a blue blur.”

“I recently discovered Steeldust’s- Speed,” remarked Prowl.

“Makes sense dat they’re both real fast, seein’ as who their sire was. They both take after him.”

“Yes, who were there creators, Jazz?”

“Their sire was da current record holder in da pro races, Wingracer. Their carrier was da well-known singer, Harmony.”

Prowl furrowed his brow. He remembered now hearing that the young couple had offlined tragically.

“Both were well known mecha, but that is not a reason why someone would send an assassin after them.”

“There’s what is being told ta the public, and what those of us that dig a little deeper have found an’ ain’t s’posed ta share. Ah’m still workin’ on dat. But they were offlined because they spoke out against the Council. And that gladiator from Kaon.

“They were right, but ya know how it is. A hitmech was hired, conveniently a follower of Megatronus. An’ well, ya know the rest.

“Ah told Steeldust not ta tell anyone who his creators were, just in case the hitmech realized he missed and is lookin’ fo’ him. His brother’s under watch as well.”

Prowl frowned deeply. “That is horrible. Do they have any relatives?”

Jazz leaned back in his chair. “Ah found a relative o’ Harmony’s. Warned her too. She don’t really want anything ta do wit’ da younglings. She agreed ta take care o’ some things until they’re old enough. The two younglings will receive their inheritance an’ such once they’re o’ age. She’s arranged fo’ the older one ta stay in school. By da time he’s done he’ll be able to look out fo’ himself. An’ she put me in charge o’ the younger one ta find him a home,” the investigator explained. “Wingracer an’ Harmony didn’t seem ta be dis femme’s favourite mecha.”

Prowl said nothing for a few kliks. He thought carefully about what his friend had told him.

“Is it wise to leave Steeldust’s brother where he is? How old is he? And what is his designation?” the enforcer finally asked.

“He’ll be alright Ah think, Ah’ll keep an optic on him as much as Ah can,” replied Jazz. “He’s seven vorns older than Steel, so fourteen. His name’s Blurr.”

* * *

Prowl and Jazz talked for another breem. When Prowl asked, the investigator revealed he indeed had been looking after Steeldust for three jours instead of the two he’d previously told him.

Steeldust had almost been none responsive for the first jour. Jazz had taken him to a medic, worrying that he was going to offline. The medic had requested to keep the youngling for a few orns to monitor him. Jazz hesitantly had agreed after the medic promised to notify him the moment something changed.

The youngling had stayed at the hospital for several orns but was finally cleared. Steeldust was doing much better now, but frequently woke up during the offcycles, having what was called by other species, nightmares. Something that was rare for Cybertronians.

The two mechs argued some more about what should be done about Steeldust.

“What you have told me does not change anything, Jazz,” Prowl said sternly. “Steeldust still needs to be placed in appropriate care.”

“Aw, Prowl, not dis again.” Jazz huffed. “His next relative barely wants ta do what she’s doin’. An’ she appointed me o’ findin’ someone.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Ah already have. An’ ya know it, don’t ya.”

“Please do not tell me you have already gone and done it,” Prowl protested.

Jazz couldn’t help but grin smugly as he pulled a datapad from his subspace. He shoved it across the table towards the Praxian, who glared at him before picking it up.

“Got them a jour ago,” Jazz said with a shrug.

Prowl glanced over the documents. The adoption form had been filled out and signed. All was in order. Jazz was the official guardian and caretaker of Steeldust.

“Is this Harmony’s relative’s signature,” Prowl said dryly, pointing to the bottom of the last page.

“Yep,” the investigator nodded. “She was more than willing ta come ta Iacon an’ help me make it official. Steeldust is stuck with me until he’s o’ age ta decide fo’ himself.”

“Jazz—“ Prowl rubbed the chevron on his forehelm.

“It works. Ah think ya know Ah can take care of him, Prowl. Aurora Star an’ Aftershock have offered ta help if Ah need it. An’ Ah think ya’ve seen dat Steeldust needs me,” Jazz said quietly. “Ah’m sorry, if ya don’t agree with what Ah’ve done, but Ah think Ah made da best choice for Steeldust.”

Prowl looked at the datapad with Steeldust’s drawing still displayed on the screen.

He knew what happened to very small sparklings and younglings who lost their creators. Steeldust was among the very few lucky ones who hadn’t offlined soon after they did. Most young sparks couldn’t handle the trauma of having both creators ripped from them and went out shortly after the event. If they didn’t offline the moment their creators did.

It was likely only because Steeldust had had a brother to cling to that he was still online.

In addition, the enforcer had seen it before where if an orphan did survive, they imprinted on the first mecha they saw after whatever event had offlined their creators. It was better if the pair could be kept in contact with each other for at least several vorns. From what it seemed; Jazz was the one that happened to find Steeldust first.

Prowl vented deeply and sighed. “Fine. But I better not hear anything about you having problems with raising him. And stop teaching him your annoying habits. Please.”

“What annoying habits?” Jazz asked, raising an optic ridge. His doorwings twitched as he reached forward to reclaim his datapad.

The young enforcer sent him a dark glare. “Do not tell me you don’t have any, Jazz. You know you do.”

Jazz shrugged as his signature grin reappeared on his faceplate. “Maybe. Maybe yer just no fun and fun ta bother.”

Prowl frowned. “Do Aurora Star and Aftershock know who you really are or did you make up a false identity on the spot, _Chrome_?” 

The investigator smirked. “Ya went ta my old apartment did ya? They know, Ah just asked that if anyone comes lookin’ fo’ me dat they’d act like they didn’t know da real me. Ta keep them an’ Steel safe.”

“I see.”

Prowl watched as Jazz rose from his seat and strode to the hallway entrance.

“Steeldust,” called the investigator. “Time ta head home.”

“Coming!” came the faint response.

Soon after, Steeldust came running down the hall, datapad and styluses in tow. “I finished my homework and coloured, Jazz.”

“Good. Ya can show me when we get home, a’right?” Jazz asked, beckoning with a hand for the youngling to follow him.

The young investigator turned to Prowl, who had joined him by the hallway. “Thanks fo’ watching Steeldust on short notice, Prowl.”

Prowl crossed his servos, raising an optic ridge. “You mean, no notice.”

“Yeah, dat,” Jazz grinned, slapping his friend on the shoulder. “But seriously, thanks. Ah owe ya.”

“You are welcome.”

Prowl was startled when a pair of servos reached around his pedes. He glanced down at the youngling hugging him.

Steeldust looked up at the enforcer. “Thanks, Prowl. See you later.”

“Goodbye, Steeldust,” Prowl said, patting the youngling on the helm hesitantly. He relaxed when Steeldust ran to join Jazz at the door.

“Seems he’s growing on ya, Prowler,” said Jazz with a chuckle. He then opened the door and the two left.

Prowl was left alone in the peace and quiet of his now empty house. How long it would last, he was uncertain.

The enforcer had a feeling that Jazz and Steeldust would return before long.

* * *

Jazz looked in on Steeldust before he went to recharge. The youngling was curled up in his berth, recharging peacefully.

As the investigator leaned on the doorframe, he wondered if the youngling would stay that way for the rest of the offcycle. He hoped so, it had been over a decaorn since the little youngling’s last nightmare.

He wondered if Blurr also had nightmares. And how he was doing.

Jazz couldn’t really do much else for the older brother. Blurr wanted nothing to do with him or his help.

The investigator didn’t regret his choice to be Steeldust’s caretaker. He knew that it had to be him from the first decaorn after he’d found the youngling.

He just hoped that he would be able to be a good caretaker for Steeldust. Though he acted like he knew what he was doing and was confident in front of Prowl, Jazz still wondered to himself.

“Ah promise ya, Steeldust,” the investigator whispered to the recharging youngling. “Ah promise Ah’ll do ma best ta take care of ya. It won’t be like what ya woulda had with yer creators, Ah know dat. But Ah won’t let nothin’ like dat ever happen again ta ya.”

* * *

The next orn, Jazz commed Silver as Prowl requested.

“Hello?” Silver said, answering her comm quickly.

“Hey Silver. It’s Jazz. Prowl said something bout ya wanting ta talk ta me?”

“Good orn, Jazz. Yes, thank you for calling. I talked to Officer Prowl a bit last orn but hoped to talk to you as well since you are Steeldust’s caretaker. Did either of them talk to you already?”

“Well, Ah’m not sure if it was about what ya wanted ta talk ta me bout. All Ah heard bout last offcycle was dat ya maybe told Prowl off an’ Steeldust caught a petrorabbit.”

Silver snickered. “Well, one of those things definitely happened, I’m not certain about the first one though.”

“Steeldust really caught a petrorabbit, huh?”

“Yes, it ended up in my classroom.”

Jazz stifled his laughter. “Ah’m sorry, Silver, but that’s too amusing not ta find da situation funny.”

“It is fine, I only suffered about half a breem of bringing my class back to order after the poor creature escaped,” Silver said lightly. “But teaching seven-vorn-olds is an adventure.

“Anyways, what I hoped to talk to you about was Steeldust’s ability to finish his schoolwork faster than the rest of my class. He says the material isn’t too hard and he’s never learned it before, but I wanted to check in with how he does at home.”

Jazz thought for a few kliks. “As far as Ah’m able ta figure, he does alright. He’ll ask fo’ help here an’ there, but does most of it by himself.”

“Okay,” Silver replied. “I was wondering about moving him up a grade, but I think he seems fine where he is. And the test he took when you enrolled him here supports that. As long as that is fine with you, I’ll keep him in my class.”

“Sounds good ta me,” answered Jazz. “Think he just gets his stuff done quick cause that’s how he is?”

“That is what I am thinking, Jazz, yes. I believe it is likely just how Steeldust is built. He’s just faster than the average youngling his age. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

Jazz grinned. “Yep, Ah have.”

“I think your friend just realized it fully last orn. It was amusing to watch his reaction,” Silver chuckled. “But on another note, if you have not taken Steeldust to a medic, I would advise it. Just to make sure that he’s fully healthy and this is his normal.”

“Thanks, Silver. Ah’ll do that.”

“I appreciate you calling, Jazz. Talk to you another time.”

“Yep, thanks.”

Jazz closed his comm. He chuckled to himself, “Ah guess Ah never did mention Steeldust was a speedy little thing ta Prowler.”

Steeldust walked out of his room just then. “I’m hungry.”

The black and white mech turned to face him and crossed his servos. “No, good orn, Jazz? Just, Ah’m hungry, now feed me?”

Steeldust giggled at the investigator’s fake frown. “Good orn, Jazz.”

“Good orn ta you too. Now let’s find ya some energon.”

The navy and black climbed his chair and waited. Jazz had found him a chair that had a higher seat, so he could actually sit at the table somewhat easier than at Prowl’s house.

Jazz came back with their energon and sat down. “So. No more chasin’ things when yer s’posed ta be sittin’ right?”

“Right!” exclaimed Steeldust around a mouthful of energon.

“Don’t talk with yer mouth full, Steel. Yer gonna choke or spit it out if ya do that.”

Steeldust swallowed, then said, “But I can chase the bullies that are mean to Bluestreak, right?”

Jazz twitched his doorwings. “It’d be better if ya got one o’ da teachers ta help with dat, but it’s good ta stand up fo’ yer friends.”

Steeldust vented. “Okay.”

“Ya better hurry up, Steel. Ya gotta get ta school before long.”

The youngling resumed hungrily drinking his energon again, finishing before Jazz did.

“I beat you!” he said, smugly grinning at the mech.

“Yeah, ya did. But there’s some on yer face!”

Steeldust wiped the energon off with the back of his hand and scrambled off his chair. He ran off to his room to get his datapad and other things he needed for the orn.

Jazz finished his own energon and waited for the youngling to reappear. He was all set to leave already.

“I’m ready,” Steeldust said as he ran back into the kitchen. “Let’s go, I want to see Bluestreak!”

“But what about me?” Jazz asked as they left the house.

“You gotta go to work an’ solve mysteries, Jazz. And I hafta go to school.”

Jazz transformed and opened a door for Steeldust. “Huh, Ah thought Ah was da grown up here. Ah guess not.”

Steeldust giggled as Jazz drove away from their home. The investigator chuckled at himself.

“What do ya wanna listen ta this orn, Steeldust?”

“It’s your turn to pick.”

“Alrighty then, here we go.”

Jazz turned on some music, playing it loud, but not loud enough to damage his young charge’s audios. Both sang along until they reached the school.

Steeldust hopped out and waved. “Bye Jazz!”

“See ya, Steeldust.”

Jazz watched as Steeldust ran off to meet Bluestreak, who sat near the door waiting for him. He slowly drove away, waiting until the two were inside.

As he left, Jazz kept a careful optic out for anyone who didn’t look like they belonged.

Not many mecha would be bold enough to hunt down a youngling at a school, but you never knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit Song: Keep Holding On - Avril Lavigne  
> Thanks for reading!


	10. Deadly Games

The mech stood with his servos folded behind his back, watching the screen of the holoprojector. His shadowy figure was only partially illuminated by the flickering light from the screen, leaving him in an eerie darkness.

“We received word earlier this decaorn that a noble, who will remain unnamed, was targeted. Investigation and enforcement intervened, successfully catching the would-be assassin. Though the noble is safe, everyone is still asking these questions,” said the reporter on screen. “Why was he going to be attacked? And who was behind this attempted assassination? Enforcement is still looking into the situation, questioning the assassin.”

“Updates will be provided as we are notified.” The second reporter looked towards the camera and added, “As usual, if you have any tips or know anything about the situation, please notify the enforcers. Stay tuned for- “

The mech shut off the holoprojector with a dark chuckle. “So, they’re still stumped, are they? Fascinating, considering how the investigation team had the conversation planning the assassination to learn of it.”

Striding out of the room, the mech walked swiftly down the dark halls of his domain. He passed several mecha on his way, nodding a greeting to each.

He couldn’t help but notice that some of them averted their gaze and quickened their steps.

Smirking, the mech carried on without pause.

Apparently, some of his followers were still wary of him.

As they should be.

Savage, a crime boss of Slaughter City, wasn’t exactly someone to take lightly.

Which is exactly what the mech who had wanted his assistance in the assassination of a fellow noble would soon find out.

The fact that their conversation was allowed to be unsecure was not unintentional. Savage had had his own young hacker to ensure that the conversation would be found.

Speaking of the hacker, Savage was in need of the mechling again.

Since, the reporters had said the enforcers needed some... Assistance.

Savage was sure he could let a few hints slip about where the plan originated. It certainly wasn’t with him; he’d been contacted by the schemer.

_“Because poor Lord Skyrise decided he didn’t want to dirty his own hands. Amusing how he came to me of all mecha for help,”_ the mech thought.

The crime boss couldn’t be bothered to care why Skyrise wanted the other Tower mech offline. It was likely just some spat or rivalry that grew into something more deadly.

Not at all concerning to Savage. He didn’t have to worry about such things that seemed to involve the high caste mecha frequently.

Entering the common room, Savage quickly spotted the mechling he was looking for across the room.

Silently, he strode up behind the thirteen-vorn-old and stood waiting.

The other mecha at the table stopped talking immediately as soon as they saw their boss. The youngling noticed, probably felt his presence as well, and turned in his seat.

“Sir!” the mechling said, springing out of his chair to stand at attention in front of him.

With a roll of his optics, Savage chuckled. “Settle down, Nitro. No need to excite yourself. Come with me.”

Without waiting for an answer, the boss turned and strode away the way he’d come. His sensitive audios picked up the near silent pedesteps of his youngest follower behind him.

Once the pair were out of hearing range, Savage began, a casual tone to his deep voice.

“Nitro, do you remember my conversation with Lord Skyrise the other orn?”

“Yes, Sir,” the grey and blue mechling replied quietly. “You had me make sure it was unsecure and reached the Hall of Records.”

“Good. Now, you did a wonderful job, but it seems that our dear enforcers in Iacon have yet to figure things out completely. They got our hitmech, but have so far failed to find out who was behind it all.”

Nitro didn’t reply, waiting for him to continue.

One of the reasons Savage didn’t mind this one so much, was because he didn’t ask needless, useless questions. Smart youngling.

“In order for you to get more practice, I would like you to help them out, Nitro,” Savage continued, ordering more than requesting. “I hate to say it, but they’re a bit slow.”

In reality, Savage didn’t care. He knew Nitro knew he didn’t.

“Do you think you can assist them?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Splendid,” Savage said dryly. “Ensure they know exactly where our hitmech’s orders came from. And if you find anything about the case that the authorities are keeping hidden, I want to know immediately. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good mechling. Please start immediately.”

With that, Savage turned down an adjacent corridor, leaving Nitro behind.

He smirked to himself. Skyrise wouldn’t know what hit him when he was arrested. The noble would complain and try with all his might to get out of it, putting the blame on some mech in Slaughter City.

But who would believe him? Nobles didn’t associate themselves with criminals. It just simply wasn’t done. And besides, the hitmech, if he hadn’t already, could only tell his interrogators that the noble was involved.

The poor hitmech was simply a pawn in the game Savage was playing. He didn’t know who had given Skyrise his contact information, had never met Savage.

He was in the dark so to speak.

Skyrise had no proof that would lead the enforcers to Savage. And even if he was believed, he’d still either be punished, or if he managed to bribe his way out of prison, his reputation would be forever damaged.

And no one would dare step pede into Slaughter City to find the crime boss. Enforcement here couldn’t, or rather, wouldn’t, provide any assistance other than saying they’d keep an optic out for him.

_“Poor Skyrise. Poor foolish, Skyrise,”_ Savage thought with a grin and a shake of his helm. _“If only you hadn’t crossed me. Surely you knew something like this would happen. And you gave me the perfect opportunity to get you back.”_

* * *

“Hey, hold up there, Steel. Ah gotta take dis comm.”

Steeldust stopped walking as his guardian did and found something to amuse himself while he waited.

“Jazz here,” the Polyhexian said, answering the comm.

“Hey, Jazz. We received an anonymous tip on that case we were working on. You know, the one involving that noble?”

“Yeah. What’d they give us?”

“You won’t believe this, but we’ve got another recorded conversation. I still can’t figure out how the mecha that gave it to us got it, but it’s in-between our hitmech and the noble who hired him.”

“So, it was a higher caste, huh?”

“Yep, the name’s Skyrise. Heard of him.”

“Can’t say that Ah have... Nothin’s comin’ ta me at the moment anyways. So, what happens now?”

“Well, we sent the info up to our superiors and they’re going to get enforcement in on it. Likely they’ll head over with a warrant after we grill the hitmech some more. Evidence from the conversation is pretty clear, but we’d like a statement from him as well.”

“Need me fo’ anythin’?”

“Maybe. I’ll call you again if we do. Thought I’d let you know though.”

“Thanks, mech.”

“No problem! See you around.”

“See ya.”

Jazz closed the comm and turned back to Steeldust.

“Kay, Steel, we’re good ta go now- “

The investigator trailed off as he noticed that his charge wasn’t where he’d left him. He looked around, scanning the street, sidewalk, and surrounding buildings.

The youngling had vanished.

“Steeldust?” he called, doorwings flicking as he began to grow concerned. “Where are you?”

No answer.

Beginning to walk in the direction they had been heading before stopping, Jazz continued to call for the seven-vorn-old.

“Ah stop watchin’ him fo’ one astroklik an’ he disappears! Where could he have gone, he was right there.”

Rounding the next corner, Jazz spotted a familiar pair of pedes poking out from an alley up ahead.

_“There he is! What is he doin’?”_

The young investigator hurried over and crouched beside Steeldust. “Steeldust! What’d you run off like dat fo’? Ah thought Ah’d lost ya!”

Steeldust, who was laying on his tank, turned and lifted a digit to his faceplate. He frowned and made a shushing noise, then pointed under the dumpster he was laying besides.

Jazz, who had never liked being told to be quiet, frowned and knelt down to look at what his youngling was pointing at.

A pair of glowing optics stared back at the two mecha, accompanied by a hissing sound.

Jazz straightened and glanced down at his charge. “Steel, did ya chase dat poor cybercat under there?”

Steeldust sat up. “No, I heard something crying and came to see what it was. Then, when I found it, it started hissing at me.” He paused, raising a hand. “I tried to pet it, but I don’t think it liked that.”

Noting the scratches on the youngling’s hand, Jazz sighed. “Steel, ya can’t just pet every critter ya see. Some o’ them are wild an’ don’t like mecha. An’ ya can’t just run off wit’out tellin’ me. Ah didn’t know where ya went an’ it scared me.”

Steeldust’s optic ridges furrowed. “You were scared? But I didn’t think you were ever scared, Jazz.”

Jazz stood and picked the seven-vorn-old up. Walking out of the alley, he nodded. “Ah get scared sometimes, Steel. Ah was scared Ah’d lost ya an’ dat something had happened ta ya.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, Jazz. I just wanted to see who was crying.”

“Ah know. Next time, ask before ya go runnin’ off, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good, now let’s go get those scratches cleaned up.”

“Do we have to? The stuff you put on stings.”

“Yeah, we do. And Steel, let’s not tell Prowl bout dis.”

“Why?”

“Cuz. He’ll yell at me. An’ you.”

“Right. Let’s not tell him.”

* * *

Within the next few orns, it was deducted that Skyrise indeed was behind the attempted assassination.

The hitmech finally caved and told the story, confirming suspicions of the identity of the mecha who hired him.

“To our shock, Lord Skyrise was arrested earlier this orn for attempted murder,” said the reporter on screen. “Here we have footage from his very own Tower as he was taken to be questioned.”

Jazz and Prowl watched as the news reporter disappeared and a video was shown of a very angry noble being forced into the back of a waiting transport vehicle by two enforcers.

“Unhand me! Don’t you fools know who I am? Someone is lying, I am innocent! Innocent I tell you!” Skyrise screamed, struggling and thrashing. “How dare you! There will be consequences for you all!”

The screams and threats were suddenly muffled as the enforcers shut the doors of the transport. Other enforcers ordered the growing crowd of mecha to back off.

“Officer,” said the reporter next to the cameramech, “Can you tell us anything about the situation we have here.”

The enforcer paused and spoke into the microphone being thrust towards him. “Not at the moment. The investigation is still ongoing.”

“What will happen to Lord Skyrise?”

“All I can say is that he will be questioned and then tried before a judge. That is all.”

Before the reporter could ask more, the enforcer walked away.

The video was cut short, and the news station reappeared onscreen.

“So, there you have it,” said the first reporter. “Sadly for Lord Skyrise, whether he is innocent or not, his life will never be the same. Keep watching for more on this story.”

“Next up, we have news from the racing world,” the second reporter said, the screen behind them changing to a view of the Iacon racetrack. “It seems that racer Lightwave is now consistently taking first place instead of second. And much to likely every other racer’s dismay, seems to be intent on staying there.”

“I’d say he definitely has earned it though,” replied the first reporter. “With all the training he’s done in the past, I’d say that he’s more deserving than most.”

“True, Lightwave seems to spend most of his free time practicing and training. He’s dedicated, that’s for sure.”

“Of course, that has been a thing for vorns. What is new, is that he does it alone now with the passing of his best friend, Wingracer.”

“Yeah, the poor mech took that hard. Hey, speaking of Wingracer, have we heard any more news on the whereabouts of his two younglings?”

“Just the one. The other one still seems to be missing- “

Prowl shut the holoprojector off and turned to Jazz. “You know you are fortunate that Steeldust is not here?”

Jazz grimaced. “Yeah, Ah know.”

“You have to tell him about his brother.”

“Ah know. But not yet. Da youngling is just starting ta do better, Ah don’t want him ta go backwards. An’ Ah’m not sure he’d understand yet...”

Prowl flicked his doorwings. “Make sure you do tell him, Jazz. He will find out some orn, whether it’s from you or elsewhere.”

* * *

“Are you seriously going to watch the trial?”

Savage glanced at his right-hand mech. “Of course. I could not miss the humiliation of that stuck up fool.”

Razordrift leaned against the doorframe, eyeing the shorter mech critically. “Quite daring of you to venture to Iacon to watch a trial of something that you are technically involved in.”

The crime boss smirked. “Isn’t it? Even if Skyrise spots me in the crowd, what can he possibly do?”

“Point you out, tell his side of the story.”

“Oh, he will rant about how he was tricked and framed and falsely accused or whatever whether I am present or not,” Savage said smoothly. He continued with a dark chuckle. “He’s not exactly in a good position to accuse anyone though.”

“So, you’re going to risk it just to watch him throw a fit?”

“More or less I suppose. I have not gotten out much lately and I believe it is due time I visit the lovely, corrupt city-state of Iacon personally. And I am in need of something amusing to watch while I am there in case I find nothing else of interest.”

Razordrift rolled his optics and shoved off the doorframe. “If you get caught, your funeral,” he called as he walked away.

Savage just laughed. “Or if I don’t, Skyrise’s further embarrassment.”

* * *

A few decacycles later found Savage walking through one of Iacon’s prisons. Unsurprisingly to him, he got in without any guards recognizing and stopping him.

Now, it was time to visit a _friend_ as he had claimed.

Nodding his thanks to the guard that opened the door for him, Savage walked into the room where civilians could talk to the convicts.

The room was large, split down the middle by glass windows which were separated by dividers, allowing some privacy for the mecha speaking to each other. Chairs sat on either side of the glass with a desktop comm system for each chair placed on the surface in front of the glass.

The room was otherwise empty, as Savage had hoped. With a slight smirk, he chose a chair and sat down to wait.

He didn’t have to wait very long.

The door on the opposite side of the room opened and another mech entered. He stopped short as the door was closed and locked behind him, spotting his visitor.

Skyrise’s expression changed from surprise to anger as he stared at the mech on the other side of the glass. Even though he hadn’t met the sinister mech faceplate to faceplate for a long time, he’d recognize him anywhere.

Warily moving to take the seat across from the crime boss, Skyrise sat down.

The two mechs stared each other down for several kliks. One completely at ease, a pede crossed over the other, servos folded. The other sitting rigidly straight, folded hands on the counter in front of him.

Finally, one pushed a button on the comm system, connecting to the one on the other side.

Skyrise couldn’t help but shiver as his enemy’s low, chilling voice came through the speaker.

“So, the esteemed Lord Skyrise has found himself thrown from his lofty tower into a prison cell.”

“Well,” snapped the noble, glaring daggers at the crime boss. “I’m sure you had nothing to do with it.”

Savage grinned broadly. Keeping his voice low, he answered. “You are correct, my dear noble. I do not.”

With a snarl, Skyrise shook his helm. “What do you wish to accomplish here?”

Feigning a surprised look, Savage leaned forwards. “I cannot simply pop in to visit an old friend who has been convicted of something he claims to not be apart of? Pity I came all this way.”

“Interesting. I did not think friends got each other sent to prison,” hissed Skyrise.

“No. But friends do not do what you did, Skyrise.”

The noble suddenly blanched, sitting back in his chair, all anger disappearing from his faceplate.

“This is all about _that_? This is your revenge?”

Savage shrugged; faceplate neutral. “Offlining you would be too kind.”

“I thought that you were past that when you agreed to help me,” growled Skyrise lowly, shaking his helm in disbelief. “You are still holding a grudge?”

With a dark chuckle, the crime boss replied. “You walked right into that one, my friend.”

“You framed me! You intentionally gave them information to suspect me, didn’t you?”

The crime boss slowly clapped his hands together. “Well done, Skyrise. You have figured it out. I commend you on your intelligence.” He lowered his hands again, staring intensely at the other mech. “A pity you did not think of this outcome earlier in the game. It is unfortunate that you lost the one that you started.”

“Game? What game?”

“It has been so long since you invited me over for a game of chess,” mused Savage lowly.

“What?” sputtered Skyrise. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Apparently you got bored of simply playing on a board and wished to play on a grander scale. Too bad I always was better at the game.”

“You mean life?” The noble scoffed, folding his servos. “You and your boasting.”

Savage leaned forwards, faceplate blank. He spoke with a deadly coolness. “When two powerful mecha go up against each other, it gets very interesting. When you contacted me, you fool, you gave me the perfect opportunity to join. I came out victorious despite previous losses.”

“And you intend to leave me to rot in here,” growled Skyrise, glowering.

The crime boss got elegantly to his pedes; mouth turned up in a slight smirk. “Sounds like something you would do if our positions were reversed, old friend. Something I almost experienced first hand from you, fortunately I have better connections.”

He began walking back towards the door he came in, ignoring the dark glare that followed him.

“You’ll never get away with this,” the noble hissed through the comm system that was still on.

Savage stopped just short of the door and turned back to face him. He smirked again, optics narrowing. “Oh, but I already have.”

Pausing, the criminal’s faceplate lost all emotion. Except the deep hatred in his optics.

“Checkmate.”

With that, he knocked on the door, alerting the guard stationed outside that he was finished. The door was opened for him and the crime boss left without another glance.

On the opposite side of the glass, Skyrise shut off the comm and made his way to the door where his guards were waiting to escort him back to his cell.

The noble’s dark expression made them wonder what the pair had spoken about, but brushed it off.

_“You will not get away with this, Savage,”_ Skyrise thought _. “I will be avenged for this.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even more oc's featured here... Some also star in some of my other stories (Real Freedom and others on fanfiction.net) if you wish to read more about them.  
> Credit Song: Traitor - Daughtry  
> Thanks for reading!


	11. Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get ready to cry folks, this one is sad... There are however, some not so sad parts. So there's that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was co-written with Blaster 2.0. We share Lyric and Iron Blade is his oc that he kindly lets me borrow. Check him out on fanfiction.net if you'd like to read his stories.

The firefighter sat in the living room, listening to the radio. He frowned as he listened to the voice of a very familiar Polyhexian femme.

“If not even Wingracer o’ all mecha wasn’t safe from da Council, then how is anyone? Dey have shown dey don’t care who dey target an’ silence.”

Lyric had been working for this gladiator character for a few decacycles now.

She had been home once during that time to explain her reasons.

Which, he understood.

Lyric felt like she had to do something so Harmony and Wingracer did not offline in vain.

But the firefighter wasn’t sure that he agreed with how his sparkmate had chosen to side with Megatronus.

He was distracted from the speech by a small noise to his right.

Smiling, the large mech turned and scooped up his one-vorn old sparkling out of his crib.

“Hello, little one. Did you hear your Carrier’s voice and wake up?”

The little sparkling babbled on, reaching up and patting his Sire’s face. He looked around, probably wondering why he could hear his Carrier and not see her.

“You miss her too, don’t you?” the firefighter murmured quietly. “Hopefully, she will return to us soon.”

Tuning back into his sparkmate’s speech, the mech frowned again. He didn’t exactly agree with some of what she and Megatronus talked about. True, the Head Council was often unfair and he definitely didn’t agree with the caste system.

But the Council did provide order that was needed in their world.

Some orns that Lyric was on the radio, the only reason the firefighter listened, was just to hear the sound of her voice.

He didn’t agree with what she was doing, but he had let her go because he loved her.

As Lyric finished, the mech nudged the bond they shared. He sent an internal comm, hoping she would answer.

_“Lyric? Can we talk?”_

_“Not right now, Sweetspark. Ah have ta move outta here quick.”_

_“Why?”_

_“Oh, ya know. Mecha protesting. Da usual. Don’t worry, Ah have some o’ da others wit’ me. Nothing they can’t handle.”_

_“When are you coming home, Lyric. We miss you.”_

There was a long pause before she answered.

_“Ah’m not sure.”_

_“Okay.”_

_“Ah’m sorry, Sweetspark.”_

The firefighter sighed deeply. He tried not to let his feelings of frustration leak through the bond too much.

_“Please stay safe. I love you.”_

_“Ah will. Ah love ya too.”_

With that, the comm went dead.

The firefighter leaned forward and shut off the radio. He rose to his pedes and walked towards the kitchen, taking his sparkling with him.

“Well, little one. It seems we’re on our own for at least a few more orns. How about some supper?”

The sparkling eagerly chirped, hearing the mention of something for his hungry tank. His bright blue optics widened as he smiled happily.

The firefighter smiled down at him, cradling the small frame in one of his large servos as he prepared the young sparkling’s supper.

The sparkling, as young as he was, recognized what he was intended to have for his supper. He let out a low whine, protesting the offcycle’s choice.

“Aw, come on, buddy. It’s not that bad,” the mech said with a sigh. “It’s good for you. It’ll make you big and strong like me.”

All the sparkling responded with was a deep frown. The little one’s unhappy faceplate grew only more unhappy when he was seated in his chair and a spoonful of his supper was extended towards him.

“Come on, open up,” the firefighter said encouragingly, holding the bowl in one large hand and the spoon in the other. “It’s good!”

With a small shake of his helm, the sparkling began to whine again.

Pulling his chair a little closer to his sparkling, the mech raised the spoon, moving it closer to him.

“Look! Here comes the Seeker heading into the hangar!”

As the spoon came closer, the sparkling tried to squirm away, turning his helm.

Suddenly, the spoon was smacked out of the firefighter’s hand, ricocheting into the bowl in his other hand.

Goopy energon was flung all over him, even reaching his helm and faceplate.

All was silent for a few astrokliks, the mech blinking in shock, now empty handed.

The sparkling took one look at his Sire and burst into a fit of giggling.

After looking down at himself, the mech reached up and wiped the energon off his faceplate.

“How?” he muttered wonderingly.

His tiny sparkling had somehow dumped the bowl all over him, even getting it up to his helm.

And he was _not_ a short mech.

Giving his laughing sparkling a stern look, the firefighter got up to get a towel to clean up.

And another bowl of-

_Different_ flavoured energon.

* * *

“So. Iron Blade. Where are yer creators?”

Iron Blade looked up at the femme sitting next to him. With no emotion in his tone, he replied, “They’re offline.”

Lyric’s faceplate blanked. “Ah’m so sorry, dear.”

The two were quiet for a few kliks.

“How long ago?”

Iron Blade shrugged. “A few vorns ago. I don’t really remember them.”

“Ah see...”

Another silence.

“Iron Blade?”

The youngling turned to look back at her, a questioning look on his faceplate.

Lyric furrowed her optic ridges. “How old are you?”

“Nine.”

The femme sucked in a sharp vent. “Yer only nine vorns old?”

Iron Blade paused, tilting his helm. “Yes...?”

“And Megatronus lets ya train and stuff already?”

“Yeah.”

Lyric’s optics became dark with anger. She smiled down at the youngling, patting him on the shoulder. “Please excuse me, Iron Blade. Ah need ta go talk ta yer guardian.”

“Okay.” Iron Blade watched her leave, somewhat confused. He then shrugged, going back to what he was doing before Lyric came to see him.

* * *

“Megatronus!”

The gladiator looked up when he heard his name being yelled, pausing mid sentence.

“Who’s that?” grunted the other mech, trying to see around Megatronus.

“That,” the gladiator said, “would be Lyric.”

“She sounds angry with you.”

“So, it seems.”

“I think I’ll leave you two alone to talk about- Whatever it is she wants,” the other gladiator said, looking down the hallway. “We can finish our conversation later.”

Before Megatronus could reply, he was gone.

And Lyric had found him.

“Lyric-“ he began calmly, but was cut off.

“You!” hissed the femme, marching right up to him. She jabbed a digit into his chest plate, optics glaring up into his. “Do ya know how old dat youngling is?”

“I am aware of his age,” Megatronus replied, calmly returning the stare. “What of it?”

“He is too young ta be doin’ what ya have him doin’!” Lyric spat angrily. “He is just a youngling!”

“As I recall, you have never brought this up before. Why now? Surely with the amount of time you have spent with him, you also should have known.”

Lyric threw up her hands, beginning to pace in front of the towering gladiator. “Ah knew he was young, but not that young! He acts so much older.”

“He has had to grow up fast.”

“Ya could’ve placed him somewhere safer. He could’ve had a better home where he could be a youngling. Not some assassin or gladiator in training!”

Megatronus frowned deeply, gazing down at the angry femme. “It is not your place to tell me what to do with Iron Blade. Or to tell me anything. You would be wise to remember that.”

Lyric stopped pacing and whirled to face the gladiator. “Is dat a threat?” she hissed.

Leaning closer, Megatronus spoke lowly. “You have proved your usefulness, Lyric. Do not be a fool and make me regret my decision to let you speak for me.”

“Do not be a fool an’ threaten me, Megatronus,” Lyric replied coolly. She returned his stare unflinchingly. “If ya lose me, ya won’t gain ma help ever again.”

“Perhaps you should consider where your loyalties lie, Lyric.” Straightening to his full height the gladiator folded his servos behind his backplates. “I have no use for those who doubt or question my movement.”

“Well, then,” Lyric said with an agitated twitch of her doorwings. “Ah suppose we’re on da same conclusion den. If ya can’t see sense an’ threaten those who offer it, den ya don’t have ma support any longer.”

“Very well. You may take your leave.” Megatronus turned away, about to leave the room.

He paused at Lyric’s next statement.

“Ah don’t need permission from ya for nothin’, gladiator.” Lyric also had turned to leave, but had also paused.

Staring at each other over their shoulderplates for a klik, they were silent.

“Oh,” Lyric added shortly. “An’ Ah’ll be takin’ Iron Blade wit’ me. This is no place fo’ either o’ us.”

Megatronus turned back to face her. “You cannot take him. I forbid it,” he growled.

With a smirk, the femme tossed her helm and strode out of the room. “Watch me,” she called back.

Clenching a fist, the gladiator growled at the now empty doorway.

There was no way he was letting Iron Blade go with that femme.

Moving quickly, Megatronus began looking for one of his followers. He needed to keep an optic on Lyric. When she decided to leave Kaon, he needed to make sure it was without his youngling.

Snarling as he walked, the gladiator thought further on the subject. He regretted accepting Lyric’s help, even if it had been beneficial.

The femme was too headstrong and questioned him too much.

He’d grown tired of her and her disrespect.

A thought came to him, making him pause midstep.

_“Iron Blade has gotten attached to her. I cannot get rid of her with his knowledge.”_

He would have to ensure that Iron Blade never knew the truth of why Lyric left Kaon.

Or why he would never hear from her again once she did.

* * *

Iron Blade glanced up as Lyric stormed into the room.

“Iron Blade, pack yer things. We’re leavin’,” she said shortly, placing her hands on her hips.

“What?” asked Iron Blade, sort of confused at the statement.

Lyric sighed, moving to stand next to the youngling. She placed a hand on his shoulderplate, expression softening. “Iron Blade, Ah’m going home. Home to ma sparkmate an’ sparkling. Megatronus an’ Ah- Well, we have some disagreements. Workin’ together ain’t goin’ well. Ah’d like ya ta come wit’ me ta live. Dat is, if yer willin’? Ma sparkmate would welcome ya an’ Ah know ma sparkling would love an older brother once he’s old enough ta play wit’ ya. What do ya think?”

The youngling thought for a moment. “I’ll think about it.” He then went back to the device he was fiddling with.

One he was trying to make work better.

“Alright, Iron Blade,” Lyric said quietly. “Ah do hope ya come wit’ me.”

Iron Blade didn’t look up as the white and red left the room.

After a few more kliks, he got up and also left.

He wanted to see what Megatronus thought of the idea.

* * *

Later that offcycle, Lyric was sitting at the desk in her room. A knock at the door made her look up.

“Who is it?” she called.

“It’s Iron Blade,” came the quiet reply.

“Ya can come in, dear.”

Iron Blade opened the door, waiting until it had slid all the way into the wall before entering. He walked over to the femme and stopped beside the desk.

“I talked to Megatronus about going with you,” the grey youngling said flatly.

Lyric sighed. “Ah suppose Ah can guess what he said...”

“He said I couldn’t go with you.”

The femme nodded her helm. She turned in her seat to fully face the youngling. “Iron Blade,” she began gently. “Ah know what he wants, an’ honestly, Ah don’t care. Ah don’t have ta listen ta a thing he says.

“An’ if ya don’t want ta stay here, yer welcome ta come wit’ me anyways. It is up ta you an’ you alone, Iron Blade. What do you want?”

Iron Blade was quiet, thinking hard. Finally, he said, “I don’t know. Megatronus says I have to stay- “

“But you want to come with me,” Lyric finished.

“Yeah,” said Iron Blade with a nod.

“Ah’ll be leavin’ first thing next orn. Yer welcome ta come wit’ me, Iron Blade,” Lyric said softly. “But Ah leave da choice up ta you.”

Iron Blade said nothing. He simply walked away, leaving Lyric’s room without another word.

He was puzzled, now more confused than he had been before.

_“What should I choose?”_ he thought.

* * *

The next orn, Lyric was all set to leave. She waited, hoping Iron Blade would show up before she did. She was never quite certain where the little youngling was half the time.

Beside the petite femme, Barricade shuffled impatiently in place. “Are you ready to go yet?”

“Shush. Ya know Ah’m waitin’ fo’ Iron Blade,” Lyric said irritatedly.

She didn’t exactly like this young enforcer.

Barricade rolled his optics. “You know he won’t go with you, right?”

Lyric scanned the area again. “Ah can hope differently.”

Soon enough, Iron Blade did show up.

He walked slowly over to Lyric, looking up at her.

She sadly returned the look, a small smile on her faceplate. “Ah assume yer stayin’?”

Iron Blade nodded. “Yeah.”

“If ya ever change yer mind, come find me,” Lyric replied, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Ah have ta go now. Take care o’ yerself, Iron Blade.”

“I will. Goodbye, Lyric.”

“Goodbye, Iron Blade.”

“Let’s go,” muttered Barricade. He stepped out onto the broken street and transformed.

Lyric took one last look at the youngling, then followed the enforcer.

Iron Blade lifted a hand in a wave as he watched the two mecha drive away.

_“Maybe, I’ll go visit her one orn,”_ he thought.

If Barricade was in his true form, he might’ve grinned. Little did the femme behind him know, she was driving right into a trap.

_“I should tell her exactly what happened to her friend,”_ the enforcer thought to himself with a dark chuckle. _“Since it was her fault and she won’t be able to tell anyone else. In fact, I should take her to the same place Anchor offlined.”_

* * *

The blue firefighter stared out the window facing the direction of Kaon. Tears streamed down his faceplate as he wordlessly held his one-vorn old. The sparkling screamed into his Sire’s chest as he was gently held close.

“There, there, First Aid,” muttered the mech softly, turning his attention to his sparkling. With a large digit, he brushed away the tears from the little red and white’s cheeks. “It’ll be alright.”

But deep down in his spark, where a gaping, empty, hollow hole now was, Hotspot knew that it would be a long time before it was.

And so, the two stayed by the window, mourning the loss of their beloved sparkmate and carrier.

_“Why did you have to go, Lyric?”_ Hotspot wondered sadly. _“Why did it have to be you, my love?”_

First Aid’s cries eventually turned into hiccups as he drifted into recharge in his sire’s large servos.

_“The poor sparkling didn’t have much time to get to know his carrier,”_ realized Hotspot. Another round of fresh tears welled up in his optics. _“He’ll likely forget her, he’s so young._

_“I won’t let him forget you, Lyric. First Aid will grow up knowing his carrier loved him very much and didn’t mean to leave us.”_

Hotspot straightened, wiping the tears from his faceplate with his free hand. He had to be strong for his sparkling.

He would mourn his sparkmate, but he wouldn’t let himself shut the world out. Especially not First Aid.

“At least I still have you, little one,” the firefighter murmured softly, gazing down at the small sparkling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Credit Song: Hymn for the Missing - Red


	12. Findings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz introduces his charge to a friend. Lightwave does some investigating.

Lightwave lifted a hand to the door and knocked.

“Just a klik,” called a voice from inside.

Momentarily, the door opened, revealing a young mechling.

One that Lightwave immediately recognized as the older son of his friend.

The racer grinned down at the confused mechling.

“Mech, you look like a spitting image of your sire.”

The fourteen-vorn-old blinked several times, staring up at the taller mech. “Uh, back up. Who are you again?”

Collecting himself, Lightwave snickered. “I’m Lightwave, mechling. Remember me?”

Blurr continued to stare, furrowing his optic ridges. “No. Wait, maybe?

“You look familiar.”

“Ouch,” Lightwave said with a wince. He sighed, tilting his helm. “I’m your Sire’s friend.”

The mechling’s optics widened in realization. “Oh, yes. You.

“What do want?”

It was Lightwave’s turn to stare and blink.

“Uh, I just came to check on you, Blurr,” the racer said quietly. “Your creators were my friends. And I was worried about you and your brother.”

Blurr leaned against the doorpost of his room. He crossed his servos.

“Yeah, I remember you now. But I’m fine.”

Tilting his helm, Lightwave continued. “If you ever need anything, at all, please let me know. I-”

Holding up a hand, Blurr shook his helm. “Look, I appreciate it, but I don’t need anything. I’m fine.”

Pushing off of the doorframe, the youngling turned to go back inside.

“Blurr, wait.” Lightwave moved forward a step and placed a hand on Blurr’s shoulder, stopping him.

Blurr turned his helm, narrowing his optics. “Look here- “

“I want to help you and your brother,” Lightwave said earnestly. “Please let me.”

Frowning deeply, Blurr turned around, shaking the mech’s hand from his shoulder. “That investigator sent you, didn’t he?”

“What?” Lightwave drew back. “No. What are you talking about?”

“The Polyhexian investigator who keeps bothering me.”

Lightwave glanced around, hands on his hips, wondering how to handle the situation.

“Look, Blurr. I don’t know this investigator mech, but I do know this.

“Your sire was my friend and if you’ll let me, I’d like to be yours.”

Blurr shook his helm, raising a hand to point at the mech. “Listen. I don’t need my brother, I don’t need that nosy investigator, and I certainly don’t need you.”

He turned away, crossing his servos. “Now if you don’t mind, I have homework.”

Shoulders sagging, Lightwave nodded. “Sure, I’m sorry I bothered you Blurr.

“But could you tell me one thing?”

“What’s that?” Blurr snapped.

“Where can I find your brother?”

Blurr sighed, still not looking at the mech. “Ask my aunt. She lives in Polyhex. Last I heard, Steeldust was being adopted. She should know where he is.”

“And you don’t know?” Lightwave inquired, a concerned frown appearing on his faceplate.

“Blurr, what happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” the mechling said quietly. His helm hung low. “Please just go.”

With another nod, Lightwave replied, “Okay. I will.”

Placing his hand on the fourteen-vorn-old’s shoulder again, he continued.

“For what it’s worth, Blurr. I’m so sorry for your loss. I’m sure you miss them terribly.

“I know I do.”

Blurr didn’t make any move or sound.

“Goodbye, Blurr.”

Lightwave walked away, looking once over his shoulder at the youngling.

“Take care of yourself. I’ll be back to see you sometime.”

Wordlessly, the youngling disappeared into his room, sliding the door closed behind him.

Faceplate solemn, Lightwave turned away, walking down the hall. Once exiting the school, he drove to the Archives.

There, he talked to a young data clerk, who helped him find the address of Harmony’s sister.

“Thanks, Orion. I really appreciate you’re help,” Lightwave said as he was leaving.

“It was pleasure,” the clerk said with a smile. “I hope you can find your friend.”

Lightwave gave him a sad smile. “Thanks.”

Soon enough, the racer was on his way south to Polyhex.

It shouldn’t take him very long. Only a couple orns.

He could still get back in time for his next race.

If not, oh well. He could miss one.

This took first priority.

_“I hope Lyric knows where Steeldust is,”_ the racer thought as he crossed the border of Iacon into the state of Crystal City.

He’d hop the border into Polyhex further south, closer to the sector that Lyric and her family lived in.

After all, he enjoyed the drive through Crystal City more than Polyhex.

* * *

Steeldust looked around at his surroundings from his perch.

Which the height of, considering whose shoulders he was riding on, wasn’t technically that high.

But when you were a youngling who only came up to the said mecha’s knee joints, it didn’t take much to give a different perspective on the world.

Jazz strode through the park, weaving between the other mecha in the steadily growing crowd. His optics darted back and forth behind his visor, searching for someone in particular.

Spying the mech he was looking for, the investigator grinned.

“Hey, Steel. I see him. Think we should try and surprise him?”

Steeldust glanced around, moving the rest of him as he did. “Yeah! Where is he?”

Jazz tightened his hold on the youngling’s dangling pedes to prevent him from falling off of his shoulders.

“See that red and yellow mech over there?”

“That one?” Steeldust asked, pointing towards the mech.

“Yep.”

Stealthily moving forward, Jazz snuck up beside the mech, who appeared to be looking for them.

Glancing upwards at the youngling, the investigator gave a quick nod.

Keeping one hand on one of Jazz’s audio horns, Steeldust reached over with his free hand and tapped the mech on the shoulder.

Startled, the mech looked to see who was there.

Looking down a bit, he spied a youngling, who instantly grinned and waved at him.

A confused look spread over the mech’s faceplate.

“Yo, Blaster. No need to rub it in that yer that much taller than me. Down here.”

Blaster glanced at the mech who’d spoken and grinned widely.

“Jazz! What took ya, mech?”

“We’ve been here awhile. Ah had ta find ya.”

“Who’s this?” Blaster asked, reached over to high five the youngling on his friend’s shoulders. “Hey, is this the youngster you told me about?”

“Yeah, mech. This is Steeldust,” Jazz replied with a grin. “Steel, this is my friend, Blaster.”

“Nice to meet you, Steel,” Blaster said. “Ya like music?”

Steeldust nodded eagerly. “Yeah I do.”

Blaster chuckled. “That’s good. Cause let me tell you, both you and Jazz are going to love this festival.”

He then leaned down a bit, raising an optic ridge and grinning. “I guess that this means no after partying for you then, eh, Jazz?”

“Nope,” Jazz said, walking towards the nearest stage. “Ya comin’? It’s gonna start soon.”

With a laugh, Blaster followed.

It would be interesting hanging out now that Jazz had a youngling.

They’d make it work though.

Later during the first show, Blaster glanced over at his friend.

Jazz of course, was enjoying himself, but that wasn’t what made the announcer grin.

Steeldust looked absolutely enraptured.

“Here, Steel,” Blaster said, reaching over and plucking the youngling from his friend’s shoulders. “You’ll be able to see better like this.”

Getting what he meant, Steeldust nodded and climbed up onto Blaster’s shoulders. “Okay.”

Jazz stretched, then smirked. “Thanks, mech.”

“No problem, Jazz.”

Once it was getting fairly late for a seven-vorn-old, Jazz decided it was time they headed home.

“Yo Blaster,” he said, yelling over the music. “Ah think we better get Steel home.”

“Yeah, I can feel him almost falling into recharge,” Blaster replied loudly, pointing upwards towards the youngling. “Glad you two could come. We’ll have to do this again.”

Taking Steeldust from his friend, Jazz had him ride on his back between his doorwings. Blaster followed him to the park’s entrance.

Steeldust was out by the time they got there.

Pausing for a klik, Jazz glanced up at the announcer. “It’s been a while since Ah’ve been ta Iacon fo’ somethin’ besides work. Thanks again for the invite.”

“No problem, Jazz. It was fun.”

Blaster paused, glancing at the recharging youngling before turning his attention back to the investigator.

“You know, you’re really good with him. He’s a lucky one. See ya around, Jazz.”

“Thanks, Blaster. That means a lot. See ya around.”

Blaster waved then turned to leave.

Jazz did the same, but called over his shoulder, “Tell Steeljaw Ah said hey.”

“Will do!”

* * *

Lightwave never claimed to be a very big mecha. Sure, he was sort of tall, but with a racer’s frame, he knew he was not very large.

But standing on the doorstep of Lyric’s home, he felt very short and very small.

The mech that had answered the door was not.

_“Sheesh, I thought when Wingracer told me his brother-in-law was a big, beefy firefighter that he was joking,”_ the racer thought, optics wide as he stared.

The blue firefighter looked down at the green and yellow mech on his doorstep with a confused expression on his faceplate.

“Hello. Can I help you?” he rumbled.

“Uhh,” was all that came out of Lightwave’s mouth at first.

Then, realizing he must look pretty dumb, standing there with his mouth open, he shook himself.

“Sorry, I just didn’t think you’d actually be as big as my friend said you were.”

The fire truck’s optic ridges rose even higher than they were before and Lightwave mentally and literally slapped himself.

“Sorry. Again,” the racer muttered from behind his hand. Removing it, he looked back up at the other mech.

“I am, I mean, was a friend of Wingracer. You must be Hotspot.”

“Oh, yes,” nodded the tall mech. “And you are?”

“I’m Lightwave.”

The mech stared down at him, waiting for him to continue.

Lightwave warily thrust his hand forward, hoping that it wouldn’t be crushed in the other mech’s much larger one as he shook it.

Of course, it wasn’t and Lightwave took that as a sign to ramble on.

“I really don’t want to bother you, but like I said, I was friends with Wingracer, and Harmony too and as I’m sure you’ve heard, sadly they’re gone but have two younglings and I was wondering if you or your sparkmate knew where the little one was?”

Hotspots had been amused by the mech, but at the mention of his sparkmate, his faceplate fell.

The racer noticed almost immediately and stopped.

“I’m sorry, I said something wrong, didn’t I?”

“No, you haven’t,” Hotspot assured sadly. “It’s just, my sparkmate offlined recently.”

Lightwave’s spark dropped.

“I’m-“ He paused, hanging his helm. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“It’s alright, you didn’t know.”

The mechs stood there in silence for several kliks.

“I should go,” Lightwave murmured quietly, turning to leave and feeling like he shouldn’t have come.

“Wait,” the fire truck called quickly, making the racer stop.

“I think I can help you find him.”

Lightwave jerked his helm around, a hopeful expression on his faceplate. “Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to impose. I feel I’ve already done enough harm.”

“No, no. Please, come in,” Hotspot said, beckoning for the other mech to follow him into the house.

Tentatively, Lightwave did, closing the door behind him. Entering the living room, Hotspot gestured for the racer to take a seat.

“I’ll be right back, I think Lyric had something that may help you,” he said, walking off down a hallway.

Sitting down in an armchair, meant for someone smaller than the blue firefighter, Lightwave glanced around the room.

Pictures of Hotspot, a femme that looked a bit like Harmony, and a very small sparkling scattered the walls.

Lightwave bit his lip, shaking his helm.

Another family, torn by death.

He wondered what had happened to Lyric. He didn’t dare ask, seeing that her sparkmate was very hurt.

Even though he was hiding it.

Shortly, Hotspot returned, a datapad and a sparkling in his servos.

“This is my son, First Aid,” the mech said proudly, placing the sparkling gently on the floor beside a large chair.

“Hello, First Aid,” the racer said, catching the little one’s attention for a moment.

Seating himself, Hotspot handed the sparkling a toy from where it had been sitting on the end table.

Lightwave watched as the mech smiled down at the little sparkling, who babbled on happily.

It reminded him of when Blurr used to be that small and how Wingracer used to play with him.

Although, this was different because there was an expression of loss in the mech’s optics and the sparkling looked like he’d had some trouble eating and sleeping lately.

And it broke Lightwave’s spark.

“You said you were Wingracer and Harmony’s friend,” rumbled the firefighter, not looking away from his son.

“Yes,” Lightwave said with a nod.

“I think I recognize you. You and Wingracer were almost always together when I watched the racing channel,” Hotspot said quietly. He raised his helm to meet the other mech’s gaze.

“You know what it’s like to lose someone too, don’t you?”

Lightwave swallowed, then replied. “Not someone as close as a sparkmate, but someone who might as well been my brother.”

“That’s what I thought,” Hotspot nodded. He straightened in his chair. “I thought we might get a visit from you. You’re trying to look after their younglings, aren’t you?”

The racer shrugged. “Trying is the word. I checked in on Blurr, but he’s gonna be a hard one to even talk to. He’s as stubborn as his carrier when she wanted to be.”

A small smirk flickered across the bigger mech’s faceplate. “Sounds like his aunt too.

“And I’m guessing you couldn’t find the younger one?”

“No, Blurr didn’t know where he is, which seems really odd to me. I was hoping that you could tell me.”

Hotspot smirked again, this time a bit wider. “I believe that investigator is trying to keep them off the radar as much as possible for now. Or at least that’s how he said it.”

“I’m guessing the investigator you’re talking about is the same one that has apparently been bothering Blurr.”

“Likely. I guess he was one of the first responders and found Steeldust. He’s actually the one who adopted the youngling.”

Lightwave blinked. “I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting that turn of events. Do you know where I could find them. I just want to check in and hopefully keep in touch with them at the very least.”

Hotspot turned on the datapad in his hands and scrolled for a bit.

“I know Lyric had her copy of the adoption papers on here somewhere. They might be able to- Oh here we go.”

Turning the datapad towards the other mech, he pointed at the screen.

“The investigator lives in Praxus. There’s his address there.”

Lightwave leaned forward, reading the information and committing it to memory. “Thanks, that is a big help, mech.”

Hotspot smiled, withdrawing the datapad and placing it on the end table. “I’m glad I could help you, Lightwave.

“And I hope you can do something for those younglings. I don’t know them very well, but I’m sure they need everyone’s support they can get right now.”

Wordlessly, Lightwave got to his pedes and put out a hand for Hotspot to shake again.

“Thank you for all your help, Hotspot. And please, you and First Aid take care of yourselves.”

“We will. Thank you for coming.”

Showing himself out, Lightwave was soon back on the road.

He would return to Iacon and then when he could make time, journey to Praxus.

Hopefully, Steeldust would be a little more open than his older brother.

“They have every right and reason if not,” Lightwave told himself.

He was grateful that Hotspot had been willing to talk to him.


	13. The Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kids fight and scheme. Friends stick up for each other.

Smokescreen walked swiftly across the playground, finally catching up with Steeldust.

The two younglings had been looking all over for Bluestreak, who had gone missing at the beginning of recess. Steeldust had unconsciously took the lead in the search, leaving Smokescreen to follow wherever the navy and black decided to look.

The older youngling huffed quietly to himself. Steeldust never went anywhere slowly, and even he with his longer pedes had trouble keeping up sometimes.

Poor Bluestreak probably had it worse.

“BLUESTREAK!” Steeldust yelled from the top of the slide, shielding his optics with one hand as he scanned the area.

Smokescreen winced as his younger friend teetered on the narrow ledge of the slide. He shook his helm. Since when was he worried about mecha falling off of high things.

And this was Steeldust, not Bluestreak. Not that Blue would do a lot of the things Steeldust would.

Smokey sighed. His teacher must be rubbing off on him or something.

“Do you see him, Steel?” the white youngling called.

Steeldust came zipping down the slide, landing neatly on his pedes next to Smokescreen. “Nope. He’s-gotta-be-somewhere-‘round-here-though. We’ve-checked-everywhere-inside,” he said in a rush, his words almost blending together.

After taking a klik to sort out what his friend had said, Smokescreen replied. “Right. Maybe he’s- “

Smokescreen didn’t get to finish. Steeldust was already halfway across the front yard, likely heading to check where he was about to suggest.

“Hey! Wait for me!” Smokescreen protested, running after him once again.

As he rounded the side of the building, the nine-vorn-old’s audios picked up mecha laughing. In addition, there was one yelling.

_“That sounds like Bluestreak!”_

Reaching the back yard of the school, Smokescreen’s suspicions were confirmed.

_“Not again...”_

Bluestreak was in the midst of four older younglings, who were tossing his datapad back and forth over his helm.

“Give it back!” Bluestreak whimpered, jumping as the datapad flew over his helm once more.

“Aww, little Bluestreak wants his datapad back, mechs,” sneered the leader of the group of bullies. “Hey Swerve, throw it here!”

“Hey!” yelled Smokescreen, approaching the group.

The five younglings looked up. Bluestreak was relieved, but the rest were unimpressed.

One of the bullies cackled. “Oh look, someone’s coming to save you.”

“Save me, Smokescreen,” mocked another one, making his voice higher, poorly impersonating Bluestreak.

The third held the datapad aloft. “Whatcha gonna do? Make us give it back?”

Smokescreen growled; his hands curled into fists at his sides. He stalked right up to the leader of the group and looked him in the optic. “Why can’t you four just leave Bluestreak alone? I’m tired of you picking on him!”

The green and black youngling looked down at him and sneered. “Yeah? Ah’m tired of ya botherin’ us. Ya think ya can boss us around?”

“Let’s show them who’s boss!” exclaimed the second bully. He grabbed Bluestreak by a doorwing, pulling him away from Smokescreen.

“Oww! Wildrider, let go! That hurts!” whimpered Bluestreak, struggling to get away.

“Let him go!” Smokescreen growled, advancing towards the grey and red youngling who had his friend.

He was stopped by the other three bullies. The leader shoved him hard. “Get lost!”

Smokescreen stumbled a few steps back. Once he’d regained his balance, he charged the leader.

Within astrokliks, Smokescreen and Wheeler were rolling on the ground, hitting and kicking each other.

The other three bullies cheered their leader on. Wildrider kept a firm hold on Bluestreak, grinning like a nutcase.

_“Where did Steeldust go?”_ Smokescreen wondered as he was kicked in the tank. Gritting his denta, he swung at the Wheeler’s helm. His fist connected with the green youngling’s jaw.

“Ouch! Why you,” snarled Wheeler, pausing to rub his faceplate.

Smokescreen launched a pede towards him, kicking him off of him.

Wheeler landed with a thud. “Don’t just stand there, ya idiots! Get him!” he growled in pain.

Before anyone could react, Steeldust arrived.

The speedster came rushing from the school’s back entrance and leapt over Smokescreen. He tackled Swerve to the ground and then dove towards the next bully.

“You!” hissed Drag Strip. Tossing the stolen datapad to the side, he lunged towards Steeldust.

Drag Strip was fast, but Steel was faster. He ducked under the orange youngling’s servo and in-between his pedes, tripping him.

Wildrider took one look and ran, shoving Bluestreak away from him.

Steeldust dodged Bluestreak and ran after the bully. “Get back here, Wildrider! I’ll get you for hurting Bluestreak!” he screamed.

“I didn’t hurt him! Get away from me, you’re crazy!” yelled Wildrider.

“Liar!”

Meanwhile, Wheeler had gotten up again. He had watched, slack-jawed, as Steeldust took out most of his followers in mere astrokliks.

“Aargh!” he yelled, charging Smokescreen again.

The white and blue youngling was ready for him.

Taking a tip from Steeldust, he let the bully get close to him, and then tripped him. The youngling landed faceplate in the dirt.

Steeldust meanwhile, had succeeded in tackling his opponent and had now returned. He stood protectively in front of Bluestreak as the four bullies regrouped. Smokescreen backed up to join him.

Wheeler staggered to his pedes, wiping dirt from his bruised faceplate. “Yer gonna pay for that,” he snarled.

Smokescreen raised an optic ridge as he readied himself. “You really want to go again?”

The rest of the bullies looked at each other, then at the Praxians and speedster.

Steeldust growled, baring his denta, and took a menacing step forward. His doorwings and shoulder plating flared, making him look bigger.

“We should go, boss,” Swerve laughed nervously as he slowly backed away. “Come on, Drag Strip.”

The orange and purple speedster glared at the trio, but followed Swerve.

Wildrider took one more look at the small navy speedster, then turned and retreated again.

Soon, their leader was by himself.

“Hey! Where ya goin’! Ah didn’t tell ya mechs ya could leave!” he yelled after them. Turning back to face the trio, he pointed at Smokescreen. “This ain’t over!”

With that, he followed after his group, limping as he went.

“You okay, Bluestreak?” asked Steeldust, turning to look his friend over. His shoulder playing laid flat again as he calmed down.

The grey Praxian nodded, his doorwings quivering. “But now we’re gonna be in trouble,” he wailed. He sat down on the ground and hid his faceplate in his knee joints.

“Hey, Blue,” Smokescreen said, limping over to crouch beside him. “It’s okay. They’re gone. And really, you’re not going to get in trouble, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

The school’s doors opened and Silver emerged. She saw the three younglings huddled together and ran over.

“Are you three alright? Steeldust came and told me there was a fight?” she asked upon reaching them.

_“So that’s where he went,”_ thought Smokescreen. “Yeah, Wheeler and a few others were bothering Bluestreak again.”

Silver shook her helm. “Those younglings...” She knelt down on the other side of Bluestreak and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright, Sweetspark?”

Bluestreak lifted his helm and nodded.

“Smokescreen and Steeldust saved me. Silver, please don’t get them in trouble! They were only trying to help!” he pleaded anxiously.

“Calm down, Bluestreak,” the teacher said firmly. She glanced up at the two younglings in question.

Smokescreen definitely looked like he’d been fighting. He had dents and scrapes all over him, but other than that seemed to be fine. Silver wasn’t so sure about Steeldust, but she thought he’d likely been some part of it.

“Unfortunately, I do have to send you three to the office. But Steeldust did come to me and request help. That was the right thing to do,” she began. Directing her gaze towards the navy youngling, she asked, “Steeldust, did you involve yourself in the fight when you came back outside?”

“Yes, Silver,” Steeldust replied unashamedly.

“Alright,” Silver sighed. “Let’s get you three to the nurse. After that, you will be going to the office.”

“Yes, Silver,” the three chorused.

“Here’s your datapad, Bluestreak,” Smokescreen said as he picked the device up. He handed it to the younger Praxian and pulled him to his pedes.

“Thanks, Smokescreen. Sorry I got you two in trouble,” he murmured, following Silver and Smokescreen.

“It’s okay, Blue,” Steeldust replied from behind him. “We weren’t gonna just leave you.”

“Yeah,” Smokescreen added, wiping energon from a cut on his servo. “Besides, those mecha need to learn to leave smaller younglings alone.”

“But you got hurt cause of me,” protested Bluestreak.

“Yeah, but I’ll be alright. Don’t worry about it, Blue.”

Steeldust piped up again. “Smokey’s tough. He’ll be okay.”

Bluestreak didn’t look quite convinced, but he nodded. “Thanks for helping me. I wouldn’t have gotten away without you two.”

“You’re welcome,” Smokescreen said.

“Like Smokey said, we weren’t gonna leave you alone,” Steeldust added.

Silver waited up ahead, holding the door open. “Come on you three.”

The younglings hustled along a bit, entering the building and headed towards the nurse’s office.

_“That wasn’t exactly how I planned to use my recess time this orn. Oh well, at least Blue’s okay. And I got to show Wheeler he’s not so tough,”_ thought Smokescreen. _“But Blue is right, we’re gonna be in trouble.”_

* * *

“Well, that could’ve gone worse,” Smokescreen remarked as they left the office.

“What do you mean?” Steeldust asked, tilting his helm. “We got talked to.”

“We could’ve got in more trouble. They let us off with a warning this time.”

“Oh. I guess so.”

“I’m sorry,” Bluestreak said, hanging his helm. “I got you two in trouble. It’s my fault.”

“No, you didn’t. We got ourselves into it and I would do it again,” replied Smokescreen. “It’s really okay, Blue. Don’t worry bout it.”

“Okay.”

Steeldust meanwhile, had halted in the middle of the hall. The two other younglings noticed and also stopped several steps away.

“What’s he doing?” Bluestreak asked.

The navy and black was staring up at something, his doorwings twitching.

“I dunno,” replied Smokescreen, walking back to where they’d left Steeldust.

Bluestreak followed. “Steeldust? What’re you looking at?”

Smokescreen looked at the ceiling to see what was so interesting.

“There’s a vent,” Steeldust replied matter-of-factly.

“Uh- Yeah,” Smokescreen said. “So what?”

“They go all through the building.”

“Your point?” the white and blue asked curiously. _“What is he getting at?”_

“If we got up there, we could go wherever we want and nobody would know,” said Steeldust, still looking at the ceiling.

“Why would we want to do that?” asked a very confused Bluestreak.

“Cause it’d be fun!” Steeldust grinned, finally looking at his friends.

“That does sound like fun,” agreed Smokescreen. “But how would we get up there? We can’t exactly go get a ladder.”

Steeldust narrowed his optics in thought. “I don’t know.”

Just then, the bell rang.

“If I think of something, I’ll let you know,” called the navy speedster as he ran to class.

Smokescreen watched as Bluestreak ran after Steeldust, quickly falling behind. Then, he turned to head to his own class.

Steeldust’s idea sounded exciting. He would think of ways to get to the vents too.

* * *

Silver glanced up at her class to check on them. Bluestreak, she noted, looked worried about something.

She glanced over at Steeldust to see if he had noticed.

The femme sighed when she saw the expression on the navy and black youngling’s faceplate.

_“Well, that might just be why Bluestreak is worried. Or he is still upset about what happened earlier.”_

Silver _knew_ that look on _that_ youngling’s faceplate. Steeldust was planning something. In all likelihood, Smokescreen was involved too.

_“Poor Bluestreak gets dragged into all sorts of things by those two,”_ Silver thought, shaking her helm _. “At least the things they come up with aren’t dangerous.”_

Usually.

She would have to keep an optic on them for the next few orns. Hopefully whatever Steeldust was scheming about wasn’t anything to do with the bullies they’d fought with earlier.

“Steeldust, Bluestreak. Please try and focus on your reading.”

The two younglings did as they were asked, and Silver went back to marking work.

There hadn’t been too much excitement in her classroom since the petrorabbit incident a few decacycles ago.

Silver chuckled to herself. It would be too good to be true if that was the craziest thing her students did.

* * *

“Ah know dat look,” Jazz said when Steeldust ran over to him. “Spill.”

Steeldust placed his hands behind him and tried to look innocent. “What do you mean, Jazz?”

The investigator crossed his servos over his chest. He looked down at the youngling, optic ridges raised above his visor. “Ah know yer schemin’. What mischief have ya got planned, Steel?”

Steeldust grinned widely. “Nothing.”

“Uh huh, sure,” Jazz said. “Come on. We’re gonna surprise Prowler with a visit.”

“Yay!” Steeldust cheered. He hopped in Jazz’s alt once the mech transformed and soon they were on their way.

“Jazz?”

“Yeah, Steeldust?”

“When you were my age, did you ever have to chase away bullies for Prowl?”

“Hmm, we didn’t know each other when we were yer age.”

“Oh,” Steeldust replied. “But you would’ve, right? If someone was being mean to Prowl, you’d help him.”

“You bet Ah would’ve. Ah still would now. That’s what friends do, look out fo’ each other,” Jazz responded cheerily. He paused, then continued. “Why do ya ask?”

“Just cause.”

“Okay.”

The two were silent for a bit.

“Mecha pickin’ on Bluestreak again this orn?” Jazz asked.

“Yeah. Me and Smokescreen saved him though. They didn’t really hurt him.”

“That’s good. Are you an’ Smokescreen okay?”

“Smokescreen had to go to the nurse, but he’s okay now. And they didn’t get me.”

“Hmm, da two of ya fought then?”

“We had to help, Blue,” Steeldust protested. “I-ran-and-got-Silver-but-I-beat-her-back. And-they-were-hurting-my-friends-so-I-had-to-help. I’m sorry for fighting, Jazz.”

“Well, Steel,” Jazz mused. “It was good ya went fo’ help an’ stood up fo’ yer friends. Did someone already give ya a talkin’ ya?”

“We got sent to the office. They headmaster let us off with a warning, but the bullies got in trouble.”

“Ah see. It sounds like ya know where ya went wrong, so Ah won’t say anymore bout it. No more fightin’?”

“Unless there’s no other options.”

“Good enough fo’ me,” Jazz said. Then, he added, “So how many did you an’ Smokey fight off before Silver got there?”

“Four,” Steeldust said as Jazz pulled to a stop in front of Prowl’s house. He hopped out and Jazz transformed behind him.

They walked up the steps and the investigator knocked on the door.

“He’s taking a long time,” said Steeldust. “Maybe he didn’t hear.”

Jazz chuckled. “Ah just knocked a couple astrokliks ago, Steeldust. Be patient.”

“Okay.”

Steeldust stood as still as he could for a few kliks. His doorwings twitched as he tilted his helm, listening for pedesteps.

“Hmm, Ah guess he ain’t home yet,” said Jazz. He moved to sit on the bottom step, leaning back on his elbow joints.

The youngling came and sat beside him. “Think he’s on his way?”

“Maybe.”

Steeldust fidgeted in place. “How long does it take to get here from his work?”

“Depends if he’s got ta make some stops on da way.”

“Think he’s lost?”

Jazz laughed. “Steeldust, Prowl knows Praxus better than Ah do. He’s lived here all his life.”

“Oh,” Steeldust said, tilting his helm. “How come you don’t live in the same place as always, Jazz?”

“Well, Ah’m da kind o’ mecha who don’t like ta stay put fo’ long,” Jazz began, looking out at the street. “There’s too many things ta do an’ see. An’ ya can’t do dat if ya stay in one place all yer life.”

“You’re kind of like me,” Steeldust replied, looking up at his guardian. “I don’t like to sit still for long. There’s too much to do.”

Jazz laughed again, returning his gaze to Steeldust. “Ah guess Ah am, aren’t Ah?”

Steeldust nodded and grinned. “But I’ve only been to Polyhex and Iacon. And now here. You’ve been to lots more places than me.”

Jazz nodded his agreement. He paused, pondering if it was wise to ask, but he decided to see where it would go. “Went ta Iacon ta see da races, Steeldust?”

“Yeah,” Steeldust replied. “Carrier sometimes took me and my brother to see Sire race. He mostly won. He was a good racer.”

“I saw him race a couple times. He was a good racer, wasn’t he? Ah didn’t know him, but he seemed like a good mech too.”

“Yeah. Me and Blurr wanted to be like him some orn.”

Steeldust continued for a while, talking about the races he’d watched and how his Sire would win. He seemed sad but talked like he wanted to tell Jazz about it.

Jazz listened quietly. If Steeldust was willing to talk about his family, then that was good. He was starting to open up, maybe starting to heal.

Prowl drove up and Steeldust abruptly stopped talking.

“Hi Prowl!” the little youngling yelled, almost smacking Jazz with his hand as he waved excitedly. Steeldust then launched himself off the steps and ran to hug Prowl’s pede.

The enforcer walked awkwardly up to the steps and looked at the mech sitting there.

“Hey Prowl,” grinned Jazz. “Funny meetin’ you here.”

“Hello, Steeldust. Jazz,” Prowl replied dryly. “Any particular reason for this visit or is this a social call?”

“Ah just thought ya might’ve missed us,” said Jazz with a shrug, rising to his pedes.

Prowl rose an optic ridge. “I see. Well, please come in and make yourselves at home. Though I suppose you do anyways.”

The enforcer walked inside, Steeldust still clinging to his knee joint, making it rather hard to walk properly.

Jazz followed, snickering at the sight. He closed the door behind him and took his usual seat at the kitchen table.

“Steeldust,” Prowl said, addressing the parasite that had attached to his pede. “I have missed you too, but I cannot move effectively with you doing that.”

Steeldust peered up at him, not loosening his grip. “But this is fun,” he giggled.

“I am not a playground, Steeldust,” Prowl said, placing his hands on his hips. “You don’t need to climb on me.”

“Okay,” Steeldust said. He let go and proceeded to flop onto the floor in front of the enforcer.

Prowl looked at Jazz for help. “Please tell me he does this to you as well.”

Jazz smirked, leaning back in his chair so that it was standing on only two legs. “Sometimes. Ah think it’s special fo’ you though.”

“You look tall from down here,” Steeldust remarked from the floor.

Prowl sighed. “Excuse me, Steeldust.” The enforcer carefully stepped over the youngling and walked to the kitchen counter.

Steeldust rolled over onto his tank and twitched his doorwings. They got uncomfortable if he laid on his back for very long. He watched as Prowl brought back three cubes of energon, one half full.

Prowl paused beside him. “Are you going to stay down there or are you coming to the table?”

“I’ll stay here,” Steeldust said, moving to sit with his pedes crossed.

Prowl set his cube down beside him and carried on to the table.

Steeldust drank his energon, listening to the two mechs talk.

That orn, Prowl had caught a bad mech who had stolen something. A thief.

Steeldust was proud of Prowl, he was a good enforcer who protected mecha.

Him and Jazz were both good mecha.

_“I’m gonna be like Jazz and Prowl when I grow up,”_ Steeldust thought.

Maybe he’d be a racer _and_ an investigator or enforcer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit Song: Cool Kids - Echosmith
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	14. Small Hooligans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kids get up to some mischief. The school's headmaster gets a helm ache. Lightwave does some more snooping. Aftershock becomes suspicious. Jazz wonders about some things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: In the original of this story, this chapter was number seven. Apparently I added some chapters when I re-wrote it.

_“Racers, start your engines!”_

Steeldust placed his hands on the ground at the starting line, one pede behind the other.

_“On your mark, get set,”_ the navy and black thought as he glanced to his right. Drag Strip was copying his stance, a determined look on his faceplate.

“Go!” yelled Smokescreen from the edge of the school’s track.

Steeldust shoved off and launched himself forwards. Beside him, his opponent growled as he also began to run.

Drag Strip had a good start, keeping pace with Steeldust as the two ran the first half of the track.

The orange youngling couldn’t help but smirk as he stayed with his opponent. _“This time, I’m gonna beat him!”_

Unfortunately, his hopes and dreams of winning were dashed.

With a sly smirk cast in Drag Strip’s direction, Steeldust sped up. He rapidly increased the distance between the two of them.

Near the finish line, a row of younglings screamed and cheered.

“Come on, Drag Strip!” yelled Wildrider. “Cream him!”

“Go, Steeldust! You can do it!” Bluestreak cheered.

Wheeler simply stood with his servos crossed as he glared at the navy youngling.

Swerve stood beside him, quietly watching. He didn’t know who to cheer for.

Drag Strip clenched his denta as he ran. He was falling further and further behind. _“I’m losing to a youngling a vorn younger than me! Again!”_

Steeldust crossed the finish line, sliding to a stop several yards away. Bluestreak and Smokescreen cheered wildly as they ran over to congratulate him.

The orange and purple youngling crossed the line and stalked over to his friends. “He had a head start,” he grumbled.

“Maybe you could challenge him again,” snickered Wildrider.

Drag Strip glared over at him. “Shut. Up.”

“Why don’t _you_ race him, Wildrider,” Wheeler sneered down at the grey and burgundy youngling.

All glee disappeared from Wildrider’s faceplate. “Me? I don’t think so!”

“Why not?” Drag Strip growled, a dark frown on his faceplate. “In fact, since you all think it’s so funny, why don’t we _all_ race.

“I’ll beat you all!”

Wheeler put his chin in his hand. “Dat’s a good idea, Drag Strip. Let’s show those pipsqueaks who’s best round here.”

_“Pipsqueaks?”_ Swerve rose an optic ridge but said nothing. Steeldust and Bluestreak might be smaller than them, but Smokescreen wasn’t exactly that much different in size. _“Whatever. Wheeler’s just being insulting.”_

“Hey! Losers!” Wheeler called, striding towards the other younglings. Drag Strip and Wildrider followed while Swerve remained where he was.

The Praxians and speedster turned to face the approaching bullies. Bluestreak took a step back.

“What do you want, Wheeler?” Smokescreen asked, stepping in front of his friends. “Drag Strip had his race, now leave us alone.”

Wheeler smirked nastily, eyeing the trio. “Yeah, but we were wonderin’ if ya’d like ta race again. All of us this time.”

Bluestreak and Steeldust looked at each other, doorwings twitching.

Smokescreen crossed his servos. “What’s the catch?”

The green and black shrugged. “No catch. Just want ta race.”

Drag Strip scoffed. “You got to find a way for some of you to have a chance against us faster ones though, Wheeler. Swerve and the Praxians won’t stand a chance otherwise. Me and probably Steeldust will run circles around them if not.”

“Seriously, Drag Strip? You- Oh, never mind,” Smokescreen muttered. “What do you have in mind?”

“Steeldust could let everyone have a head start,” the orange and purple said coolly.

“Ha!” crowed Steeldust, moving around Smokescreen. “So, you admit it. I’m faster.”

Drag Strip growled, taking a step forward. Wheeler put up his hand and blocked him.

“Maybe so, but it’s gotta be fair for everyone,” he said calmly. “We all start at da same time, except for Drag Strip and Steeldust. We give them somethin’ ta do so they don’t get distracted by each other an’ then they can start.”

“What would we do?” Steeldust inquired, raising an optic ridge. He was curious now, and ready for another race.

Wildrider interjected loudly, shoving his friends aside. “They can do a handstand in the middle of the field!”

Six pairs of optics stared at the grey and burgundy youngling.

“What? It’d be great!”

“Fine. Whatever,” Wheeler sighed, rolling his optics. “They can do that, give everyone else a head start, then join.”

Drag Strip shook his helm, glaring at his friend. “Wildrider, why would we do a handstand? You seriously couldn’t think of anything better?”

“You can’t do a handstand, can you?” asked Steeldust with a snicker. “I can.”

“So can I!” Drag Strip sputtered. “It’s just, weird.”

“I don’t want to race,” murmured Bluestreak.

“You gotta,” Wildrider grinned menacingly. “Or else.”

Steeldust turned to his friend. “Don’t worry, Blue. It’ll be fun!”

“Okay,” the grey Praxian said quietly, following the others making their way to the line.

Swerve sighed as he took his place next to Wheeler. He knew he was going to lose, even if the two speedsters didn’t start right away.

“Alright, Drag Strip, you an’ the little brat go ta the middle an’ do yer thing til we’re half way round. Then, ya can start from here,” Wheeler said.

“That’s not fair,” scowled the orange and purple speedster. “You’ll be almost finished by the time we catch up.”

“Are ya scared ya’ll lose?” Wheeler said, leaning over him with a smirk. “Even if ya can’t catch up ta everyone, I’m sure ya can beat at least Swerve an’ the little Praxian.”

“Let’s just get this over with,” Smokescreen growled, twitching his doorwings as he stood waiting.

The younglings got ready to begin. Drag Strip and Steel ran off to the middle of the track.

Steeldust immediately jumped into the air and landed on his hands. He looked over at Drag Strip with a smirk. “Your turn.”

The orange youngling struggled to stand on his hands, but kept falling over much to everyone’s amusement.

“Ready, set, go!” yelled Wheeler, gaining himself a head start.

Bluestreak, to almost everyone’s surprise, shot past the bully. Smokescreen and Wildrider were close behind him.

“Hey!” sputtered Wheeler. “How did he-”

Steeldust grinned as he watched, upside down. It didn’t surprise him that Blue was beating everyone.

So far.

The two younglings in the center of the track watched as the rest raced. Steeldust walked in a half circle with his hands so he could see. Drag Strip tried to copy him and fell over again.

“Wildrider’s gonna pay for this,” he growled into the gravel before picking himself up again.

Steeldust snickered.

“It’s not funny,” howled Drag Strip.

“Blue’s almost halfway. Do we have to wait for everybody to pass halfway?” Steeldust wondered aloud.

“I ain’t waiting that long like this.”

“Then I’m not either.”

Drag Strip took off in the direction of the starting line, Steeldust hot on his heels. They got there at about the same time and took off down the track.

Swerve looked across the racetrack. “Hey, Wheeler. Look!”

Wheeler glanced where the red and white youngling was pointing. He scowled. “Already?”

“Well, Bluestreak is surprisingly past halfway. And Wildrider and Smokescreen are just there now,” Swerve replied, venting hard.

Bluestreak, meanwhile, was actually enjoying himself. He was used to running around after Steeldust, but this time, he was out in front.

Smokey would have caught up with him, except Wildrider was being a jerk and trying to shove him off of the track.

That also helped Blue to run a little faster than usual.

He checked over his shoulder. They were catching up to him. And, running hard near the back of the pack, was Steeldust and Drag Strip.

Bluestreak smiled, those two would be catching up quickly. They’d already passed Swerve and Wheeler.

Steeldust had pulled out in front of the angry Drag Strip again. They were both flying along at their full speeds, becoming hardly anything more than two blurs of colour.

“Hi ya, Smokescreen!” Steeldust yelled as he passed his friend.

Smokescreen just shook his helm and kept running. “Knew that was gonna happen.”

“Ahh, Wildrider, move!” snarled Drag Strip as he almost got sideswiped.

The grey and burgundy just cackled as his friend zipped on past him.

“Bye, Bluestreak!”

“Bye, Steeldust,” Bluestreak said.

He checked behind again. Drag Strip was coming up fast.

Blue made sure he had lots of room to pass him.

Drag Strip didn’t even look at him as he passed. His attention was on the finish line, which was less than fourth the track away.

_“Steeldust is gonna win,”_ Blue thought.

And he did.

Steeldust came in first. Drag Strip came in second, just astrokliks after. Then, Bluestreak crossed the finish line, followed by Smokescreen and Wildrider who tied. After them came Wheeler and then Swerve.

The six younglings stopped to calm their rapid venting.

“That was great,” said Swerve once he could talk again. “Wow, Bluestreak. I didn’t know you were that fast.”

“That’s just cause Wildrider was behind him,” scoffed Wheeler, a bit miffed that he ended up almost last. “Let’s go.”

Drag Strip sent Steeldust one last glare and followed the gang’s leader. Wildrider snuck up behind Bluestreak, poked his doorwings, and ran away cackling when the younger bot yelped.

Swerve began to follow them, but paused to look back.

Smokescreen, Bluestreak, and Steeldust were talking excitedly about the race. Not just the exciting things that themselves had done, but everyone involved.

Swerve frowned. His group of friends would never do that. They’d boast about themselves and criticize everyone else.

They weren’t exactly very nice, even to each other.

“Hey, Swerve!” Wheeler yelled from near the school building. “Hurry up!”

The red and white hustled to catch up. Maybe he would try and hang out with Smokescreen more. He was about the same age as him. And a whole lot nicer than Wheeler, although Wheeler was the one to welcome him to his group of friends when he arrived at this school.

He couldn’t forget about that. Wheeler wouldn’t let him forget about that.

And he probably wouldn’t like it if he stopped hanging out with them.

* * *

Silver watched the two groups of younglings walk past her open classroom door. Shaking her helm, she returned her attention to the lesson plan in front of her.

How the two groups hadn’t tore each other to pieces yet, she didn’t know.

Wheeler hated Smokescreen for some reason. Steeldust and Drag Strip had developed a firm rivalry, being two of the fastest youngsters attending the school. As for Bluestreak, he didn’t like any of Wheeler’s group, especially Wildrider. Wildrider loved bothering everyone, especially Bluestreak.

And Swerve was somewhat caught up in the middle of it all.

The red and white needed better friends in Silver’s opinion. He was, she believed, a good youngling caught up in bad influences. The other three in that group would cause trouble with or without each other, but Swerve only tagged along. He behaved himself when he wasn’t with Wheeler.

_“Well, Wheeler is graduating this vorn,”_ Silver thought as she finished looking over the next orn’s lesson. _“And I hear he’s moving back to Polyhex for the rest of his studies. Maybe then his friends will calm down a bit without their ringleader.”_

After packing up, the silver and lavender femme made her way out of the building. As she traveled through the halls, various other teachers and some students called out their goodbyes.

She returned all warmly.

Except for the teacher who taught the grade above hers. She was however, civil and respectful.

Even though he was a jerk.

Transforming once she reached the street, Silver headed towards the sector’s library. One of her students had been interested in learning more about the solar system. She promised her that she’d find some more information.

And even teachers sometimes needed to visit the library. Contrary to what some younglings might think, teachers didn’t know everything.

* * *

“Shhh! Bluestreak, we gotta be quiet!” Steeldust hissed over his shoulder.

“Sorry,” squeaked Bluestreak. “It’s dark up here!”

“Smokey’s got the flashlight. It’ll be okay, Blue,” Steeldust assured. The speedster wiggled past his friend and poked his helm out of the hole in the ceiling. “Hey, Smokescreen. You ready?”

Smokescreen looked up at the faceplate peering down at him. He lifted his servo and gave Steeldust a thumbs up. The teacher who’d been passing through had left. Now he could join his two fellow conspirators in the vents.

Astrokliks later, the end of a rope fell at his pedes. Grabbing it, he gave a small tug. Slowly, he was pulled upwards.

“Pull, Steeldust!” whispered Bluestreak, straining as he crawled backwards down the vent.

“That’s what I’m doin’,” came the response through gritted denta. Steeldust braced his pedes against one side and pushed himself backwards.

Smokescreen’s helm appeared through the hole where the grate used to be. He let go of the rope with one hand to grab Bluestreak’s extended hand.

The two seven-vorn-olds yanked Smokescreen the rest of the way up and the three collapsed in a pile.

“Get off, you two are heavy!” Steeldust gasped from the bottom of the pile.

The Praxians rolled off and Steeldust got to his knee joints. He grinned and began crawling away.

“Are we going to go exploring now?” Bluestreak asked, taking the flashlight from Smokescreen.

“You bet!” grinned Smokescreen. Moving in front of Steeldust, he took the lead. “Let’s go.”

As the three younglings began their expedition, a long rope dangled from the ceiling, forgotten.

* * *

As Silver browsed the rows of datapads looking for her desired subject, she caught sight of a familiar pair of doorwings poking up from the other side of the shelf.

Silver smiled, then walked quietly down the row and peered around the corner.

_“Yep, that’s him,”_ she thought _. “He’s very focused on whatever he’s looking at.”_

Indeed, the white and black Praxian was. He held a datapad in his hands, reading it intently. Every so often, the large doorwings on his back would twitch, ever so slightly, giving away he was still on alert.

Silver rounded the corner and stepped lightly toward the mech. “Well, here’s a faceplate I didn’t expect to see here this offcycle.”

Prowl jerked his helm up in the direction of the voice. He visibly relaxed when he recognized the voice’s owner.

“Good orn, Silver. Yes, I just stopped here on my way home to pick up something to read,” he said calmly.

“Ah, I see,” nodded the femme, stopping a short distance away from him. “I am too. A little reading project for one of my students.”

Prowl rose an optic ridge. “Your students are assigning you projects?“

Silver chuckled. “Sort of. I had one little youngling take interest in what I’ve been teaching in science lately. I decided to find her some books to take home to learn more.”

She paused, then with a sly grin, continued. “You thought it was perhaps Steeldust, didn’t you?”

The enforcer hesitated, then nodded his helm. “I had wondered if he was the reason you were here. He’s just- Very inquisitive.”

“That he is,” Silver nodded. “You know him well, don’t you, Prowl. Or are starting to anyways.”

“I believe so,” Prowl said slowly. “Though I still do not understand him at times. He has strange notions.”

The teacher shrugged. “Don’t all younglings?”

“I suppose you would be the expert on that.”

Silver laughed. “I suppose so. So, tell me, what are you reading?”

“It’s a mystery story that a co-worker recommended,” replied Prowl, showing her the datapad. “According to him, I may enjoy it. At least, in his words, enjoy pointing out the illogicalness of certain things.”

Shifting the datapads in her servos, Silver rose an optic ridge again. “Is that really a way to enjoy something? Picking it apart by it’s faults?”

Prowl shook his helm. “No. But sometimes you have to in order to make a just deduction.”

Mulling it over, Silver nodded slowly. “I suppose that makes sense.” Then, she smiled and walked around the enforcer. “Well, I have to go. I hope you enjoy your story, Prowl. See you again.”

“Thank you. Good offcycle,” Prowl said, watching the femme as she headed towards the front desk.

As Prowl drove home, he again wondered about the lavender and silver femme.

* * *

“Ah gotta ask, how did they manage ya get inta the vents in the first place?” Jazz asked, leaning forward in his seat.

The school’s headmaster sighed, rubbing his faceplate with a hand. “You may not believe this, Investigator. The younglings claim that they used a rope, which one of the teachers found hanging from the vent opening that they used to get in.

“One went up first and then pulled the second up. Apparently after that, a teacher came along and the third distracted her until she left. Then, the other two let down the rope and pulled him up.”

“Okay,” nodded Jazz. “That sounds like that would work. But how did the first one get up there?”

“That’s the part you may not believe,” warned the headmaster. He shook his helm, then looked at the other mech in the visor.

“Are you aware that your adopted son can run up walls?”

Jazz blinked several times.

“Uh, sorry, Apollo. What did you just say?”

“I’m telling the truth, Jazz. Steeldust even demonstrated for us this, uh, talent.”

“So, yer telling me that Steeldust ran up a wall an’ got himself over ta the vent grate?”

“Yes.” Apollo nodded solemnly. “We of course looked at the security camera footage, not thinking it was possible.

“Steeldust started running from down an adjacent hall, hit the wall and carried on upwards. Once he got to the ceiling, he continued going until he grabbed onto the grate. Then, he unfastened the grate with a screwdriver he’d brought up with him.”

Jazz let out a short whistle. “Ah have ta admit, that’s one crazy story, but Ah know Steel ain’t exactly a normal youngling.” He shook his helm. “And Ah’m assumin’ he brought the rope wit’ him as well?”

Apollo nodded again. “Yes, he did. And you already know the rest, Jazz. We have already talked to all three younglings, as well as Smokescreen and Bluestreak’s creators.”

“Thanks, fo’ lettin’ me know, Apollo,” Jazz replied. “Ah’ll talk ta Steel as well.”

“They didn’t cause any damage or trouble,” the headmaster said. “Nor did they intend to I believe. Just curiosity fueled their actions. But you know we cannot have students climbing around in the ventilation system.”

“Nope. Ya’d never see some o’ them again,” smirked Jazz. “Ah know if Ah’d managed ta pull that off when Ah was there age, Ah’d be gone.”

Apollo gave him a wry grin. “Thank you for taking time to meet with me, Jazz.”

Both mechs stood and shook hands.

“Not a problem, Apollo.”

Jazz left the headmaster’s office and Steeldust hopped down from the bench by the door.

“Am I in trouble?” the youngling asked quietly.

“A little bit,” Jazz said, looking sternly down at his charge. “What made ya think ta do that?”

Steeldust shrugged, following beside his guardian as they walked down the hall.

“I dunno. I just thought of it the other orn. Smokescreen and I came up with a plan to do it.”

“Uh huh. Headmaster Apollo told me.” Jazz shook his helm. “How bout we ask before ya do stuff like dat next time, eh?”

“Yes, Jazz.”

“Good. Ah’m gonna have ta think o’ what ta do wit’ ya. Maybe ground ya from playin’ wit’ yer friends after school fo’ a few orns.”

“Okay,” Steeldust nodded, a bit disappointed. He figured that that was sorta fair though.

“Now let’s go home. Yer gonna miss watchin’ da races if we don’t hurry- “

Jazz trailed off and stopped in his tracks as he was suddenly alone, Steeldust disappearing in a blur.

At the end of the hall, the front door closed with no sign of the one who had burst through it.

“Why’d Ah say ‘hurry’ or ‘races’?” the young mech asked himself, scratching the back of his helm. With a sigh, he resumed making his way towards the exit.

The door suddenly opened again, Steeldust sticking his helm back in.

“Jazz! Hurry up!” he called urgently.

“Ah’m comin’.”

* * *

The doorbell rang, catching the construction worker’s attention.

Tilting his helm, he rose an optic ridge.

To his knowledge, they weren’t expecting anyone and Aurora had a key.

Unless she’d lost it. But then she’d just comm him and tell him.

Aftershock shrugged, getting up from his comfy armchair where he’d been watching the holoprojector.

Walking quickly to the door, he opened it.

“Hello, what can I do for you?” he rumbled, not recognizing the mech in front of his apartment door.

The mech was tall with a thin, athletic build, Iaconian from his looks. He was painted in bright yellows and greens that almost seemed iridescent when he shifted in place.

Blue optics stared up at Aftershock.

“Why do I also find the super big mecha,” the stranger muttered so quiet that Aftershock could hardly hear him.

“Uh...” the construction worker said, arching an optic ridge again.

The stranger shook himself and put a hand over his faceplate. “Sorry. And sorry to bother you.”

Removing his hand, he looked back at the confused mech standing in the doorway.

“I was wondering if you knew the mecha in the next apartment? I had come to pay them a visit, but there’s no one there and there’s a for rent sign for that one downstairs. Have they moved?”

Aftershock frowned. _“Nobody who is friends with Jazz should be coming to see him here,”_ he thought. _“Anyone who he wants to know where he and the little are, he would’ve told by now.”_

“Yes,” he said aloud. “But they moved out a bit ago now. Don’t know where they went.”

He hated lying to mecha. But he had no idea who this mech was.

Or why he was looking for Jazz and Steeldust.

The mech’s faceplate fell. “Oh, well, thank you anyways. I’ll be on my way.”

As he turned, Aftershock called out to him.

“Wait. I didn’t catch your name.”

The mech turned back to face him. “My name is Lightwave.”

That sounded familiar. Aftershock paused wracking his processor of where he’d heard it before.

Then it hit him.

“You’re a racer, aren’t you?”

Lightwave nodded. “Yes.”

“I’m Aftershock. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” the racer said politely, though it was obvious his processor was elsewhere.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you,” Aftershock said, feeling bad for the mech. “I best let you go. Hope you find who you’re looking for.”

With a sigh, the racer gave him a wry grin. “Me too.”

With that, he walked away, and got into the elevator at the end of the hall.

Aftershock stayed in the doorway and watched until the mech had disappeared.

He frowned and went back inside his apartment, reaching up to his comm.

“Jazz. Sorry to bother you this late, but I have a question for you.”

“No problem. What’s that mech?” the investigator asked.

“Mechling, do you know someone by the name of Lightwave?”

Jazz was silent for a few kliks, likely thinking.

“Can’t say that Ah’ve met him, but Ah think Ah’ve seen him in Iacon before. He’s a racer.”

“Yep,” replied Aftershock.

“Why do ya ask?” Jazz inquired, tone hinting suspicion.

“Cause he was just here. Looking for you and Steeldust I think.”

“What’d ya tell him?”

“I said I didn’t know where you went. I didn’t ask why he was looking for you.”

Another pause from the investigator.

“Jazz. Why would a racer be looking for you two?”

“Ah dunno, Aftershock. Ah’ll have ta do some diggin’. Thanks, fo’ tellin’ me.”

“You’re welcome. Take care of yourself, mechling.”

“You too.”

With that, Jazz cut the comm.

Aftershock sighed and went back to his show on the holoprojector.

But he still wondered about that mech. The racer had looked so disappointed.

The constru

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol, with all the times that Lightwave apologizes to mecha, ya'd think he was Canadian XP  
> And Steeldust somewhat defies gravity.  
> Anyways, thanks for reading! As always, I'd love to read any comments or thoughts you may have.  
> Credit Song: Immortals - Fall Out Boy


	15. News Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dream, some memories, and shock.

_“Carrier, carrier! Look what I found!”_

_The femme let go of her sparkmate’s hand as she paused, turning to face the youngling that ran up to her. She knelt in a crouch to be on level with her youngest._

_“What did ya find, sweetspark?”_

_“Look!” the navy and black seven-vorn-old said, thrusting his hand forward. In his open palm, laid a large piece of metal gravel, orange in colour._

_“Ooh, now ain’t that a pretty one?” the femme said, picking up the rock to closer admire it._

_“It’s for you, Carrier,” grinned the youngling, bouncing on his pedes._

_The femme placed a hand on her youngling’s helm and smiled. “Thank you, Steeldust. I love your gift.” With a quick kiss on the youngling’s helm, she stood, placing the rock in her subspace pocket._

_Turning back to her sparkmate, she paused._

_“Wingracer?”_

_The youngling glanced up at his sire, noting the worried tone in his carrier’s voice._

_His sire was standing not very far away, perfectly still, as if listening._

_“Wingracer, what’s wrong?” his carrier asked, moving to stand next to the tall, wiry mech._

_Steeldust moved to stand between them. He was getting a funny feeling. His carrier’s doorwings were twitching erratically, just like his were._

_After a few astrokliks, his sire turned to face his carrier. “I thought I heard something.”_

_“Like what?” Harmony’s optics narrowed as she looked into her sparkmate’s face. “Wingracer- “_

_“Sire? What are you and Carrier talking about?” Steeldust asked, seeing that his creators were talking through their bond._

_He also was getting nervous and worried emotions through their bond with him._

_“We have to keep moving, Steeldust,” his sire replied, taking his hand._

_The mech walked forward, gently pulling his youngling with him. Steeldust glanced back to see if his carrier was coming too._

_“Ah’m right here, sweetspark,” she said reassuringly. She moved to walk beside him, taking his other hand._

_How she always knew when he was scared, Steeldust didn’t know. It must be cause she was a good carrier._

_The three walked on, for awhile in silence._

_Then, suddenly, Steeldust was shoved backwards. He fell to the ground on his back in shock. Had he tripped and fallen?_

_“Steeldust! Run!” his sire yelled, looking back at him. He then fell to a crouch with a pained yelp, holding his pede._

_Steeldust tilted his helm. What was going on?_

_His carrier yanked him to his pedes. “Do as your sire tells you, Steeldust! Run!”_

_“Harmony, take him and go! Leave me!” Wingracer said, staggering to his pedes. With one more look at his sparkmate and youngling, he ran off in the direction they’d been traveling. In a flash of navy and blue, he was gone._

_Harmony was already pushing Steeldust in the opposite direction._

_“Carrier, where’d Sire go? What’s happening?” Steeldust squeaked, running along side._

_“It’ll be alright, Steeldust. Just run. No matter what, don’t stop until yer safe.”_

_Steeldust nodded. He didn’t know what was going on, but he knew how to run. He sped up, but suddenly there was a loud noise. A noise like the gunshots on holovids. His carrier fell behind him._

_“Carrier!” Steeldust skidded to a stop and turned. To his horror, there was a hole in his carrier’s chest._

_She looked up at him, quickly getting to her knee joints and raising a hand to cover the hole. “Steeldust, listen to me,” she said urgently. She paused to cough. “My darling, you have to run. There’s some bad mecha here, you can’t let them catch you!”_

_“Carrier! You’re hurt,” sobbed Steeldust, moving forwards to hug her. “I can’t leave you, we gotta get you help!”_

_“Shhh,” soothed Harmony, petting her youngling’s helm with her free hand. “You have to go, Steeldust- “_

_A faint shout met their audios. “Harmony! Duck!”_

_The red and white femme dimmed her optics for a moment, then looked down at her youngling. With a sob, she lifted his chin. “I love you, Steeldust. Tell your brother I love him too. Never forget that, my darling.”_

_Then, another gunshot sound came. Harmony fell forward. Steeldust felt something wet hit him, he glanced down at his chest._

_Energon._

_He looked over at his carrier, confused, mouth open to ask her what happened. Then, he screamed._

_“Steeldust!” his sire yelled, zipping over and catching the youngling up in his arms as he went by._

_Steeldust was too frozen to say anything, but he noticed three things._

_One, his sire looked beat up._

_Two, he was crying._

_And three-_

_His bond with his carrier was gone._

_“Carrier!” the little youngling sobbed, wriggling in his sire’s servos. “We have to go get her, we gotta help her, Sire.”_

_“It’s too late. There’s nothing we can do, Steeldust,” Wingracer said sadly, holding his youngling tight as he ran the way they had come._

_Another gunshot rang out and more energon splattered Steeldust as something went through his Sire’s chest, just above where his spark chamber would be._

_And right above Steeldust’s helm._

_With a gasp, Wingracer put him down and shoved him towards an alley. “Go, Steeldust! Run and hide!”_

_Astrokliks later, Steeldust watched as his sire fell, a hole in his helm, just like his carrier. The youngling looked, wide and teary opticed, in the direction he’d seen the projectile bullet come from._

_A pair of red optics gleamed in the shadows on a nearby rooftop. Another pair glared down at him from a few buildings away._

_Steeldust took one more look at his creators, sprawled across the ground far away from each other._

_Then, he ran._

_He could hear mecha chasing him. He could feel the sudden emptiness of his sire’s bond, and the grief of his brother’s._

_Blurr._

_He had to warn his brother. But what way was Iacon?_

_Another gun was fired. He could hear the bullet whizzing towards him. Coming to snuff him out, just like his creators._

_The bullet neared, almost touching him. Steeldust screamed..._

* * *

...And woke up gasping. The youngling sat upright in his berth; blankets tangled all around him. Thrashing to get them off, he then patted his frame with his hands.

Seeing that he was unharmed, he focused on calming his venting.

_“It-was-just-a-dream. It-was-just-a-dream. It-was-just-a-dream.”_

Except, it wasn’t really just a dream.

Steeldust rubbed his faceplate with his hands. It had really happened, or at least most of it had, almost one and a half vorns ago.

His creators had both offlined. Shot from afar by a group of mecha with guns.

The youngling sighed; he hadn’t had that particular nightmare in a while.

Knowing that there was no point in trying to go back to recharge, Steeldust swung his pedes over the side of the berth and hopped down. Grabbing his headphones off the desk, he hooked them around his neck. Moving silently out of his room, he crept down the hallway and to the front door.

Once he was outside, he climbed up onto the roof. He sat down and looked up, placing his headphones over his audios. It was near the ending of the offcycle and a lot of the stars were gone as the sun’s light began to show over the horizon.

Steeldust thought as he watched the sunrise and listened to his carrier’s music. He knew he could have woken Jazz up to talk about his nightmare, but there wasn’t really anything he wanted to say right now. And he also didn’t really want to wake the investigator up.

Jazz had just got back from a long investigation the offcycle before and though he hid it well, he was exhausted. Prowl and Steeldust both knew the astroklik he walked in the door.

Now, Steeldust would likely be tired by the end of the orn. Good thing it wasn’t a school orn. Hopefully Bluestreak wouldn’t notice that something was wrong. He didn’t want to worry his friend.

Steeldust sighed and shook his helm. He smiled a little, Bluestreak would probably notice. The two of them were close, almost more like brothers than best friends.

Brothers.

Dropping his smile, Steeldust looked down at the ground below. _“If only you were still here, Blurr. We could’ve been like that. Heh, we could’ve shown Drag Strip who’s faster together, couldn’t we? And I’m sure that you and Smokey would get along, at least somewhat anyways._

_“I really miss you and carrier and sire.”_

Steeldust wished he had been able to warn his brother about the bad mecha that had offlined their creators. But there hadn’t been any way he could. And then Blurr had offlined too, not long after their creators.

_“At least I have Jazz, Prowl, Bluestreak, and Smokescreen,”_ he thought. _“They’re my family now.”_

As the sun rose, lighting the city in orange and yellow hues, Steeldust climbed down from his perch. When he opened the door, he immediately noticed that Jazz was sitting at the kitchen table.

“Good orn, Jazz,” Steeldust said, climbing into the chair across from his adopted caretaker. “Why’re you up so early?”

Jazz looked up from staring at his energon.

“Ah heard ya get up an’ go outside. Ya okay, Steeldust?” he tiredly asked.

Steeldust simply nodded.

“Nightmare?”

Steeldust nodded again. Then, looked away. “I’m sorry I woke you up. I tried to be quiet.”

The investigator shrugged, yawning as he did. “It ain’t yer fault. Ah’m just trained ta wake up at da slightest noise. Anythin’ ya wanna talk about?”

The navy and black sighed, crossing his servos in front of him on the table. “It was one of the same one as always, Jazz. Nothing different. It was the one where we were walking and then the bad mecha came and- “

Steeldust paused, looking down. Jazz reached across the table and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay.”

“Will it ever stop hurting?” whispered Steeldust.

Jazz got up and came around to hug his young charge. “Ah dunno, Steel. Ah dunno. But Ah think it’ll always hurt a little bit. That’s part o’ rememberin’ them. Anytime ya need ta talk, Ah’m here.

“Prowl is too. Ya know dat right?”

Steeldust sniffed and nodded, returning the hug. Jazz rubbed the youngling’s doorwings gently as silent tears slid down the youngling’s face.

“Yer gonna be alright. Ah promise.”

* * *

“Hi, Steeldust!” Bluestreak yelled out the window upon spotting his friend coming.

“Hey, Blue,” smiled Steeldust, walking to stand under the window. “What are we gonna do this orn?”

“Well, I was thinking that we could go to the park and stop at the energon sweets store on the way,” Bluestreak replied, grinning broadly. “And maybe we could take Smokescreen with us?”

Steeldust shrugged. “Sounds good to me!”

“Okay!” nodded the grey and red Praxian excitedly. “I’ll be right out!”

As his friend disappeared from view, Steeldust tilted his helm.

“I-woulda-just-jumped-out-the-window. It’s-not-that-high-off-the-ground,” he muttered.

Bluestreak soon reappeared, and the two younglings went on their way, stopping at Smokescreen’s house to collect him.

The trio then headed to the nearest energon sweets store. They each pooled a little bit of credit to get a few different kinds.

Smokescreen took the bag from Steeldust as they exited the store. “I think one of us had better carry these, Steel. We want there to be some left for us.”

“Hey!” Steeldust protested, crossing his servos. “That was one time! And I was hungry, it was an accident.”

Bluestreak laughed. “You’re always hungry, Steel. And Smokey has a point, you even ate the ones you don’t like.”

“I don’t know where you put all the energon and stuff you eat,” muttered Smokescreen, looking down at his two friends. “You’re skinnier than me and Blue, but you probably consume more than the two of us combined!”

“I’m just taller?” asked Steeldust, shrugging his shoulders and doorwings.

“Then me, not Smokescreen,” corrected Bluestreak.

“True. I run faster and have a faster metabolism? According to Prowl anyways,” said Steeldust, now walking backwards facing his two companions.

“That makes sense,” nodded Smokescreen. His attention was then caught by another group of younglings crowding the front of a nearby store.

“Huh, wonder what they’re all looking at,” he said.

“Let’s go see,” Steeldust called over his shoulder, already halfway to the other group.

Smokescreen quickly followed.

“Here we go again,” Bluestreak sighed, running to catch up with his friends.

The younglings turned out to be crowding around a store window displaying holovid players. One of the screens was tuned to the racing channel.

“Hey, mechs,” Smokescreen said as he joined the rest. “Oh, is this the junior races?”

A red and white youngling turned around and grinned at the trio. “Oh hi! Yeah, it is. They’ve got two new racers. They’re joining the tryouts.”

Steeldust wiggled his way in between Swerve and the youngling beside him, another one from school. Happily, Swerve had stopped hanging around Wheeler’s group when the green and black youngling had left Praxus a vorn and a quarter before. He’d found himself better friends since, and apologized to those he’d helped bully.

Turned out he’d been new to the school and didn’t know the group he’d gotten himself into.

Speaking of Wheeler’s old gang...

“Uh oh, here comes Drag Strip, and Wildrider,” squeaked Bluestreak, hiding behind Smokescreen.

“Out of the way, punks,” hissed Drag Strip. “We wanna see too.”

Wildrider caught sight of Bluestreak’s doorwings from behind Smokescreen and grinned. He snuck around the older Praxian and yelled, “Boo!”

“Eek!” Bluestreak yelled as he jumped in surprise.

“Go away, Wildrider,” scowled Smokescreen.

Wildrider was about to reply, but was smacked over the helm by Drag Strip.

“Shut up, Wildrider. The race is about to start and I don’t want to miss it,” the thin orange youngling growled. “You can bother them after.”

Wildrider snickered and followed his friend away from the two Praxians. “Okay.”

Steeldust was oblivious to the goings on behind him. He was still wedged in between Swerve and the other youngling, watching the screen with great interest.

The racers started lining up at the starting line. So far, all the mechlings looked familiar. The group of younglings watched for the new mecha.

“Look! There they are!” said the youngling beside Steeldust.

One was burgundy and grey, and the other was a mix of light and bright blues.

Steeldust froze, feeling his energon run cold.

It couldn’t be.

“Hey!” Bluestreak said, pointing at the blue racer. “He kinda looks like you Steeldust.”

The others agreed or disagreed, stating their opinions. Steeldust didn’t really hear any of them. His optics were locked on the screen, faceplate pale as if he’d seen a ghost. He stared, waiting for the names of the new racers to be announced.

_“There’s no way it’s him. Right?”_ thought Steeldust as the announcer went through the list of the mecha competing.

“And our two newest potential competitors-“ the announcer said.

_“Hurry up already!”_

“Fasttrack and Blurr!”

On screen the crowd cheered as the two young mechlings waved. Steeldust’s optics widened.

_“How?”_

He watched the race numbly, trying to figure out how his brother was still online. He’d felt their bond break, that meant he’d offlined. Right?

The new racers ended up finishing well and being accepted into the season’s races.

The younglings surrounding the store front excitedly chattered about the race, a few adult mecha who’d also stopped joining in.

“I could have beat all of them,” Drag Strip bragged.

“No, ya couldn’t,” argued another one of Swerve’s friends. “We’ve already seen that Steeldust can beat you and I don’t think even he’s as fast as those mecha.”

“Steeldust just got lucky,” grouched Drag Strip, crossing his servos. “I can totally beat him.”

“Are you saying you want to race him again?” Smokescreen asked, rolling his optics. “You keep challenging him and he keeps wiping the track with you.”

Drag Strip growled. “Let’s go, Wildrider. These losers can race us next orn after school.”

“Yeah, unless they’re too scared,” added the grey and red youngling.

With that, the pair walked off, laughing as they went.

“They’re weird,” remarked Bluestreak from behind Smokescreen. “And Wildrider is just- “

“Crazy?” the white and blue asked.

“Yeah.”

“Did you see that? Blurr was amazing!” Swerve yelled, waving his servos and almost hitting several mecha.

Steeldust made his way to his two friends and passed by them. “Let’s go to the park.”

Smokescreen and Blue exchanged a look, then hustled after the speedster. Behind them, mecha were still going on about Blurr and Fasttrack.

Mainly Blurr. And mainly Swerve talking about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit Song: Let You Down - NF (Piano Version by Tommee Profitt)


	16. What a Solarcycle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deep thinking and search parties. Also, surprises.

Steeldust trudged towards home after walking to Bluestreak’s house from the park. The smile he had forced all orn was now gone.

He still didn’t know what to think.

His brother was alive.

_“Then, why is our bond gone?”_ Steeldust wondered, pausing at an intersection. He stood on the sidewalk, watching numbly as mecha drove by. His doorwings drooped as low as they could go.

Thunder rolled in the near distance. Dark clouds approached, accompanying the low rumble.

_“Maybe it wasn’t actually Blurr. Maybe that mechling just looks like him.”_

But no. There were too many other coincidences. Blurr was about seven vorns older than him. That would make him fifteen vorns if he was still online.

The age that you could join the junior races.

Steeldust had also noted that the blue mechling on screen had moved and acted the way that his brother had.

Not to mention the announcer had said his name.

There was no way it wasn’t him.

“Hey. Youngling.”

Steeldust was suddenly jarred from his thoughts. He jumped, then looked up at the large, red mech who was waiting beside him to cross the street.

“You alright, youngin’?” the security guard asked gruffly, concern evident on his faceplate. “Are you waitin’ for someone?”

Recognizing that the mech meant him no harm, Steeldust relaxed, his shoulder plates and doorwings going back to their normal positions. “No, sir. I’m fine. Just waiting to cross the street.”

The mech rose an optic ridge and frowned. “Ya’ve been waiting for a while then. Ya were standing here when I showed up. Just after the light turned again.” He tilted his helm, studying the youngling. “Are ya lost?”

Steeldust shook his helm. “No, just thinking I guess.”

“Well, ya better think fast and get home. There’s a storm coming.”

Steeldust nodded. “Yes, sir.”

The lights at the crossing turned. The security guard glanced down at the small youngling one more time. “Light says we can go. See ya, youngin’.”

With that, he strode off across the street.

Steeldust sighed and followed slowly. His helm hung as he went back to his thoughts.

When he was almost across, someone honked their horn at him. He skittered quickly the rest of the way, reaching the sidewalk just as the mecha began to move again. They were in a hurry to get to shelter before the rain came.

Glancing back at the traffic, the young speedster resumed his trek home.

Before he got there, however, the storm caught up to him.

Droplets of acid rain began to fall upon the city. Mecha scurried into their houses or into shops to avoid the stinging liquid. Others ducked into doorways, hoping the rain wouldn’t last.

Steeldust dodged the first few drops. But then the rain started to fall harder.

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” he hissed, covering his helm with his servos as he ran. Optics darting around, he spied an empty doorway.

Zipping into it, he shook the acid rain off his frame as best he could. It still stung though. Especially on his doorwings.

_“I should’ve hurried home,”_ Steeldust thought, examine his servos and hands carefully. “Now Jazz will wonder where I am.”

Sitting down, he huddled in the corner, watching the rain fall.

Thunder boomed again, a lot louder this time. Loud and sharp like a gunshot.

Steeldust jumped, quietly whimpering at the noise. He brought his pedes close to his frame, wrapping his servos tightly around them.

For a breem he sat like that, hoping the rain would stop soon. He wanted to go home and crawl under his berth.

_“What an awful orn.”_

* * *

Prowl was distracted by a comm request. Noting that it was Jazz, the enforcer accepted it.

“Hello, Jazz.”

“Hey, Prowl,” the investigator said, tone worried. “Have ya seen Steeldust?”

Prowl frowned. “No, I have not, Jazz. What is going on?”

“Well, Steeldust went off earlier this orn ta go ta the park with his friends. He’s not back yet,” replied Jazz.

“Do you think they’re still at the park?”

“No. They would have headed home a long time ago. Bluestreak’s caretakers like him home long before dark.”

“Perhaps they went there?”

“Ah checked already. Steeldust supposedly headed home. Ah wondered if he stopped at yer place ta avoid the storm.”

“He didn’t as far as I know,” Prowl said, getting up from his chair. He walked swiftly to the front door. Opening it, he scanned the surrounding area carefully.

There was no sign of the navy and black youngling.

“He is not here, Jazz. I will join you in searching as soon as the rain stops.”

“Thanks, Prowl. The youngling probably found some shelter ta wait out the storm,” Jazz replied. He paused then continued tone a bit more chipper. “Steel’ll be okay. He’s smart.”

“You are correct, Jazz. I am sure he’s fine.”

“Talk ta ya in a bit.”

Prowl closed his comm. He stood in the doorway, resting a hand on the doorframe. Scanning the street again, he watched the pouring rain.

There was very little doubt in his mind that Steeldust had found shelter from the downpour. He was clever and would be fine on his own until the storm cleared.

Drumming his fingers on the doorframe, the black and white opened his comm again.

“Hello?” came the cheery reply.

“Hello, Silver,” Prowl said. “I have a favour to ask of you.”

“Of course, Prowl,” replied the femme. “What is it?”

Prowl frowned as the wind picked up, blowing the rain towards him. He closed the door and went back to his living room. “I apologize, but I unfortunately cannot make it this offcycle. Can we plan to have dinner another time? Something has come up.”

“That’s alright, Prowl. Is something wrong?” Silver asked, picking up the worried tone in his voice.

“Steeldust is missing. I volunteered to help Jazz find him as soon as the storm passes.”

“Oh no! You mean he’s stuck outside somewhere?”

“We believe that may be the case, Silver.”

“Well, I will join you two in searching for him,” the teacher said firmly. “And don’t you dare try and persuade me otherwise.”

“Silver, I cannot ask that of you. Especially after cancelling-“ Prowl protested.

Silver scoffed lightly. “You didn’t ask, I told you I’m coming.”

She paused, and Prowl knew she was likely grinning.

“Besides, the more of us searching, the sooner we’ll find the rascal. And then we can still go on our date.”

Prowl thought about it for a klik. “I suppose that is logical,” he said hesitantly.

“Exactly,” Silver said smugly. Then, her tone became serious again. “Where are you two going to look first?”

“Likely the routes that Steeldust would take from Bluestreak’s home. Jazz called his caretakers and it seems that was his last known location.”

“Alright. I’ll make my way from here then.”

“Very well then. Thank you, Silver. You didn’t have to accompany us,” said Prowl.

The purple and silver femme laughed lightly. “If you’re going, then I might as well too. I’m not going to just sit here while Steeldust is lost somewhere. After all,” she added playfully, “I now have nothing to do this offcycle.”

Prowl chuckled lowly. “Alright, if you insist. I will see you later.”

“Bye, Prowl.”

* * *

Jazz paced across the room, hands behind his back and doorwings twitching. Every so often, he’d glare out the window at the acid rain that was still falling.

“Hurry up an’ stop rainin’ a’ready,” he grumbled. “The poor youngling is probably scared out o’ his wits.”

Even after a vorn and a half, Steeldust still hated some loud noises. Mecha yelling and thunder were a problem for the youngling and sometimes sent him into hiding.

There had even been times the poor youngling had been nearly inconsolable in his panic.

But there wasn’t really a way Jazz could just go and get him. It was pouring outside. Even if he found Steeldust around the corner, they’d both be in pretty bad shape by the time they got back.

The investigator sighed. Steeldust would have to stick it out a bit longer.

Hopefully not much longer.

* * *

Finally, the thunder grew quieter as the storm moved on, taking the deadly rain with it.

Steeldust remained where he was, still frozen with fear and cold.

Gradually, he relaxed as there was now nothing to fuel his fear. But as the fear diminished, Steeldust remembered what had made him get caught in the storm in the first place.

_“Blurr isn’t offline. My brother is still here.”_

As Steeldust sat, watching the empty streets come slowly back to life, he tried again to figure it out.

It just didn’t make sense to him and made his processor hurt.

Mecha passed by the doorway he hid in. Many didn’t see him, his dark coloured paint blending in with the shadows. A few did, but they hardly spared him a glance.

It was almost dark now. The street lamps turned on and many of the store owners were now closing their shops for the offcycle.

Steeldust sat in his dark corner, not noticing anything around him.

A little while later, the youngling heard his name being called. He looked up and saw a familiar visored figure.

Jazz was walking down the opposite side of the street, looking about him. Every so often, he’d lift his hand to his mouth and call for his young charge.

“Steeldust!”

The navy and black numbly got to his pedes. He was stiff and cold from being there so long and he still felt very on edge. Slowly, he emerged onto the sidewalk.

Jazz turned and almost immediately saw him. “Steel!”

The investigator wasted no time in crossing the street. He ran to the shivering youngling and scooped him up. “Steeldust! Are ya okay? Where have ya been? We were worried bout ya!”

“Jazz,” whimpered Steeldust, burying his faceplate into the mech’s chest. “I got caught in the storm and had to hide. I was scared.”

“It’s okay now. Ah’ve got ya,” Jazz said, patting the youngling’s back. “Yer alright now.”

Steeldust clung to Jazz. “I wanna go home.”

“That’s where we’re goin’.”

Jazz was already walking back the way he’d came. He commed Prowl as he walked.

“Hey, Prowl. Ah found him.”

“Good. Is he alright?” Prowl asked, relieved that the lost youngling was safe.

“He’s a little scared and he got some rain on him, but it doesn’t look bad. Ah’m takin’ him home,” Jazz replied.

“Poor youngling,” Silver‘s voice came through Prowl’s side of the comm. “Thank goodness you found him, Jazz.”

Jazz couldn’t help but smirk. He wasn’t really surprised that Silver had come to help search. He also wasn’t surprised at all that Prowl and Silver were searching together.

“Make sure Steeldust gets the acid off as quick as possible, Jazz,” said Prowl sternly.

“Don’t worry, Prowler, Ah will. Thanks fo’ yer help you two, now go have fun,” Jazz said with a grin.

He could almost hear his best friend rolling his optics.

“Good offcycle, Jazz.”

Jazz closed his comm and glanced down to check on Steeldust. “How’s yer servos and doorwings there, Steel?”

“They sting a little,” Steeldust sniffed, not looking up. He paused for a klik, then spoke again hesitantly.

“Jazz?”

“Yeah, Steel?”

“Blurr’s online.”

“What do ya mean?” asked the surprised black and white. _“How’d he find out?”_

“We saw him on the racing channel.”

“Are ya sure?” the investigator looked up at the sky. This was _not_ how he had wanted Steel to find that out.

“I’m sure,” mumbled the youngling.

_“Scrap.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit Song: If I Break - Red  
> Thanks for reading.


	17. A Hard Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationships shift and change. Some for better, some for worse. Some feelings of betrayal, some of happiness.

The next orn, Jazz was up early.

He hadn’t recharged well.

_“What am Ah gonna tell him?”_

The investigator sat at the table, staring off into space. He had to tell Steeldust.

He just didn’t know how. Still. Even after a vorn and a half.

Placing a hand over his faceplate, Jazz leaned back in his chair _. “Prowl was right, Ah should’ve told him right away.”_

But how do you tell a seven-vorn-old, now an eight-vorn-old, that his brother purposely broke their bond?

And refused to even bother to tell him he was alright himself.

_“Ah guess Ah’ll just half ta tell him straight.”_

This was not going to be a good start to the cycle.

* * *

Blurr strode down the hallway, grinning widely. He was still feeling pretty good about the orn before.

Both he and his best friend, Fasttrack, had been accepted into the junior races.

Not that there had been any doubt in his mind that they wouldn’t.

Before Blurr could reach his first class, he received a comm request.

Despite not recognizing the code, the young racer answered it.

“Hello, this-is-Blurr.”

“Hey,” came the reply, void of emotion.

Furrowing his optic ridges, Blurr asked, “Who-is-this?”

“It’s Investigator Jazz. Remember me?”

“What do you want?” Blurr scowled. He didn’t need this right now.

“Just lettin’ ya know, yer brother seen ya race last orn.”

“Pfft, so? Why-does-that-matter? A-lot-of-mecha-did.”

“Cause ya made him think yer offline.”

Blurr halted midstep. “Wait. You haven’t told him I’m not?”

“Well, that’s not exactly something ya wanna tell someone now is it,” Jazz replied quietly. “You should come and explain ta him yerself.”

With a snort, Blurr moved to the side of the corridor, out of the way. “I’m not coming to Praxus. You can tell him.”

Jazz sighed. “Ah thought ya’d say that. Ya still don’t even wanna see him?”

“No. It would just complicate things.” Blurr shook his helm rapidly. “We have our own lives now. There’s no point.”

“No point?” sputtered Jazz. “Are you kidding me, Blurr? Steeldust loves you, he misses you! Are you seriously telling me you don’t miss him?”

Blurr said nothing for several kliks.

Finally, he replied, his tone sad.

“It-doesn’t-matter. He-won’t-want-to-see-me-anyways. I-have-to-get-to-class.”

With that, he disconnected the comm.

Walking quickly, Blurr resumed his trek. His happy mood was gone, replaced with regret.

* * *

Steeldust trudged, helm down, out of his room. Seeing the light was on down the hall, he wandered towards the kitchen.

He found Jazz sitting at the kitchen table, helm in his hands.

Concerned, the youngling drew near, placing a hand on the black and white’s knee joint.

“Jazz? Are you okay?”

Lifting his helm, Jazz looked sorrowfully down at him.

“Steel, we need to talk. Sit down.”

Confused, Steeldust wordlessly climbed up into the chair beside his guardian.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Jazz gave him a weak smile and shook his helm. “No, Steel. You did absolutely nothing wrong.”

Tilting his helm, Steeldust flicked his doorwings. “Then, what’s wrong? You look sad.”

“I have to tell you something, something I should have told you long before now,” Jazz said sadly. Pausing a moment, he continued, looking Steeldust in the optics through his visor.

“And I need you to know, what I’m about to tell you doesn’t make you worth any less. Some mecha- They just make dumb mistakes.

“Like the one I’ve made not telling you this.”

Steeldust fidgeted. He was growing more worried _. “What’s Jazz talking about? And he’s talking without his accent, that must mean it’s really bad or serious.”_

“I hardly know how to start this, but-” Jazz looked down at his hands. “Steel, I knew your brother was alive.”

Steeldust stared at Jazz. “You- What?”

Jazz nodded, biting his lip. “I went looking for him, not long after I found you. After you said your bond with him disappeared. He’s in Iacon, been staying at his school.”

“But- If he’s alive, then-why-don’t-we-still-have-a-bond? Why-hasn’t-he-come-to-find-me?” Steeldust asked, optics wide.

“Because, Blurr severed it.” Jazz said with a wince.

Steeldust reacted as if he’d been slapped in the faceplate. Shocked, he stared up at Jazz.

“What?” came the quiet, wavering voice.

“I’m so sorry, Steeldust,” Jazz said, placing a hand on his young charge’s shoulder joint.

“But- Why would he do that?” whispered Steeldust, slumping in his seat. He stared numbly across the table.

Shaking his helm, Jazz replied. “I’m not entirely sure. He was just as lost and scared as you, and in one moment, he made a decision. One he can’t take back. It was wrong of him to do that to you.”

Steeldust began to tremble, tears coming to his optics. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I honestly wasn’t sure how to. And I didn’t want to hurt you more than you had been already. I’m sorry, Steeldust. I should have.”

“It still hurts!” the youngling wailed, burying his helm in his servos on the table.

Jazz rubbed his doorwings gently. “I know, Steel. I know.”

As Steeldust sobbed into the table, Jazz sent an internal comm.

_“Hey, Silv. Can ya tell Steeldust’s teacher he won’t be comin’ ta school this orn?”_

_“Hi, Jazz. Sure, I can do that. Is Steeldust okay?”_

_“No, he’s not. Ah’m stayin’ home with him. Ah’ll fill ya in later.”_

_“Okay. Take care, Jazz. Thank you for letting me know.”_

Jazz stood up and walked over to stand behind Steeldust’s chair. Wrapping his servos around the eight-vorn-old, he spoke firmly.

“Look here, Steeldust. I want you to know, just cause your brother didn’t care enough doesn’t mean nobody does. I care about you, more than you know. And I will never leave you. And you have Prowl and Bluestreak and Smokescreen. Silver and Aftershock and Aurora Star too.

“Never forget that you are loved, youngling. You hear me? We’re here for you.”

Steeldust nodded, leaning into the hug as he choked back another sob.

Jazz continued to hold him as the youngling cried his spark out.

The two stayed like that for a long time.

* * *

Dragstrip followed Wildrider across the school playground. He frowned as he saw his friend’s victim of the orn.

Steeldust was sitting by himself at the edge of the playset.

Taking a quick look around, Dragstrip realized that neither Bluestreak or Smokescreen were anywhere to be seen.

_“That’s weird. Smokescreen hangs out with other younglings, but Bluestreak is always with Steeldust,”_ the orange and purple speedster thought.

Come to think of it, Dragstrip realized that he’d seen Steeldust moping off by himself a lot the past few orns. Ever since that orn he missed school.

_“Weird.”_

Wildrider didn’t seem to notice the difference in Steeldust’s mood. Or maybe he did, he was usually a bit afraid of him.

For some reason that Drag Strip was unsure of.

Wildrider strolled gleefully right over to the navy and black speedster.

“Hey, Steeldust. Whaddya doing all alone by yourself?” the grey and burgundy youngling said mockingly. “Did your loser friends ditch you?”

Steeldust glanced up at Wildrider out of the corner of his optic. Then, he turned away again, saying nothing.

“What’s a matter? Cybercat got your glossa?” Dragstrip sneered.

Again, Steeldust said nothing.

Wildrider frowned. It wasn’t any fun if the mecha you bothered ignored you. He bent over and poked Steeldust’s left doorwing.

He was abruptly smacked in the helm with said doorwing.

“Oww! Hey!” growled Wildrider, rubbing his helm. “What was that for?”

Steeldust sent him a dirty look, then got up and moved several yards away.

The troublemakers followed him.

“Why’re you so grouchy this orn, Steeldust?” Drag Strip asked, moving to the other side of him.

Wildrider stepped closer again. “Yeah! What’s wrong with ya? You look so down.”

“Go away,” mumbled Steeldust, bringing his pedes close to himself.

“Why should we?” challenged Drag Strip, crossing his servos.

“Leave him alone!”

The two nine-vorn-olds turned towards the voice. Both rose their optic ridges incredulously when they saw who it was.

Bluestreak was standing a short distance away, trying his best to look intimidating. His doorwings were flared upwards while his hands were balled into fists at his sides. He narrowed his optics and bared his denta, letting out a low growl.

That ended in a squeak as Wildrider jumped towards him.

Letting out a wild cackle, the bully pulled up short before he collided with Bluestreak. “Ha! You see that, Drag Strip? Bluestreak thinks he’s scary!”

Drag Strip grinned nastily as he walked over to join Wildrider.

“Too bad he’s so scary. I guess we’ll have to leave Steeldust alone now,” the orange youngling said.

“Oh no! It’s too much!” Wildrider added, pretending to be afraid. “He’s too scary!”

The bullies laughed as Bluestreak took a few steps back, cowering.

“Who’s brave now?” mocked Drag Strip, placing his hands on his hips.

Wildrider looked at Drag Strip. “Not Bluestreak,” he said blankly. Then he burst out laughing again.

He suddenly stopped when he felt someone staring at him.

Turning slowly, Wildrider grimaced when he saw Steeldust was standing right behind him.

A dark glare adorned the navy and black’s faceplate.

“Leave. Us. Alone,” came the growled command.

“Heh, heh, we were just leaving. Right, Drag Strip?” Wildrider said nervously. He walked quickly away, checking over his shoulder to make sure Steeldust didn’t follow.

Steeldust and Drag Strip scowled at each other, not blinking. Bluestreak fidgeted nervously off to the side.

“Come on, Drag Strip! Before he eats you or something!” called Wildrider from a safe distance away.

“Fine.” The orange speedster sent one last look at his rival, then stalked away. “I’ll be racing you later, Steeldust. And this time, I’ll beat you.”

“Whatever,” Steeldust growled. He turned to Bluestreak, expression softening. “You okay, Blue?”

Bluestreak kicked the ground with a pede. Glancing down, he said quietly, “Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry I couldn’t get them to go away.”

Steeldust placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Bluestreak. You tried. Don’t let them bother you, they’re just jerks.”

Bluestreak looked up, a small smile on his faceplate. Then, he frowned again. “Are you okay?”

“No, not really.” Steeldust sat back down, optics growing blurry with tears threatening to fall.

Sitting beside him, Bluestreak watched his friend for a few kliks. “Your brother’s a jerk too, you shouldn’t worry about him either.”

A small smirk appearing on his faceplate, Steeldust wiped his optics. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Tilting his helm in thought, Bluestreak said carefully, “You know, I could be your brother. I know, we’re not really, but- We could be _like_ brothers.”

Steeldust jerked his helm up, staring at Bluestreak. “You’d- You’d want to be my brother?”

Bluestreak shrugged. “You’re my best friend.”

“You’re my best friend too.”

“So, that settles it,” nodded Bluestreak, his expression firm. “From now on, we’re brothers.”

Steeldust smiled, more happy than he’d been in several orns.

The bell rang, signaling recess was over.

“Come on.” Bluestreak got to his pedes and extended a hand to his friend.

Taking it, Steeldust was pulled to his pedes.

The two slung a servo over each other’s shoulders and walked into the school together.

“We’ll stay together forever, won’t we, Steeldust?”

“You bet, Bluestreak.”

* * *

“Hey, Prowler.”

Prowl glanced up from his energon, a questioning look on his faceplate. “Yes, Jazz?”

“Ya don’t happen ta know an enforcer by da name o’ Barricade do ya?” The investigator sat with his pedes up on the table, tapping his digits on the edge of it.

Quirking an optic ridge at the mech across from him, Prowl nodded. “Yes, I have come across and worked with him a few times. He works at the office in the next sector.”

“Huh.”

“Why do you ask?”

“A had ta work wit’ him recently. Ya notice anything, off about him?”

“Off how?”

Jazz twitched his doorwings, sitting up in his chair and removing his pedes from the table. “Ah dunno. He just- Rubs me the wrong way. He’s weird. Ah was askin’ myself a few times if Ah should call the office an’ ask if he was a real enforcer.”

Taking a sip of his energon, Prowl nodded again. “Yes. Barricade does not always abide by the rules. He’s known to be prone to some violence as well.”

“Interrogating someone with him is like playing good enforcer, bad enforcer,” muttered Jazz. “Ah don’t trust him.”

“Honestly, I do not either, Jazz.”

“Well, watch yer back.”

“What do you mean?” Prowl asked, doorwings flicking.

Jazz looked over at him. “He said he’s bein’ transferred. Here. To our sector.”

Prowl couldn’t help but let out a small groan.

Steeldust peered around the corner from the living room. “Is Prowl sick?”

Jazz snickered. “No, but he might soon have a sickening co-worker.”

“It’s not funny, Jazz,” Prowl said, shooting his friend a look. Turning his attention to the youngling by the entrance, he lifted a digit.

“Steeldust, if you ever meet a law enforcer with a mostly black paint job by the name of Barricade, I want you to be very careful around him.”

Tilting his helm, Steeldust walked further into the kitchen. He looked up at Prowl, curiousity evident in his expression.

“Why? Aren’t enforcers supposed to be good mecha?”

“They are. But this one in particular doesn’t always act as he should.”

“Oh.” Steeldust frowned. “Why don’t they just kick him out?”

“I do not know,” mumbled Prowl.

Jazz snickered again. “Yeah, sometimes things don’t work out da way ya want ‘em ta.”

The investigator glanced down at Steeldust. “Done yer homework?”

Steeldust made a face. “Almost. I don’t like my teacher this vorn, he gives too much homework. And he’s a jerk.”

“Steeldust. Really?” Prowl asked disapprovingly. “You can not say that on account that he gives you more homework than you would like.”

“I’m not, Prowl. And Silver thinks he’s a jerk too. Didn’t she tell you?”

Jazz looked over at Prowl. “She’s told me she don’t like him.”

Prowl rolled his optics. “Very nice, Jazz. You know something about Silver that I do not. Congratulations.”

Laughing at his friend’s sarcasm, Jazz grinned mischievously. “Ya know, Ah know something neither o’ ya two know. Steel knows it too.”

Knowing what his guardian was talking about, Steeldust snickered. “I’m going to go finish my homework.”

Prowl eyed Jazz suspiciously as Steeldust swiftly skedaddled out of the kitchen.

Crossing his servos, he stared Jazz down.

“What might that be?” he asked, trying to sound indifferent.

“Oh, nothin’,” Jazz smiled.

“I do not believe you.”

“Ouch, Prowler.”

“Jazz-“ the enforcer sighed.

“Alright, alright,” relented the investigator, grin wide. “Ya know how you an’ Silver kept bumping inta each other a lot before yer first date?”

“Yes. We live in the same sector,” Prowl replied, optic ridge raised.

“True, but don’t ya think some o’ it was a bit- Too much of a coincidence?”

Prowl and Silver had actually talked to each other about that in the past. They had both found it a bit strange.

“Wait-“ Prowl said, looking sternly at Jazz. “That was setup by you and Steeldust, wasn’t it?”

Jazz shrugged. “Like Ah said when ya found me out after setting up yer first date, ya were takin’ too long.

“Ah’m honestly surprised it took ya this long ta figure out we were involved though.”

“Jazz! How many times have I told you not to meddle with other mecha’s affairs?” burst out Prowl.

“It worked out, didn’t it?” the investigator pointed out.

“Yes, but- Oh never mind.” Prowl shook his helm, rubbing the chevron on his forehelm.

Hearing snickering from the next room, he glared towards the sound.

“You’ve corrupted him,” the enforcer remarked before finishing his energon.

His comment was met by more snickers, both from the living room and the mech seated across the table.

“Oops,” said Jazz.

“You are hopeless. Actually, both of you are.”

Prowl got up from the table and dipped his helm. “Thank you for having me over. I must be going. I told Silver I’d meet her at the library.”

“Yer welcome, thanks fo’ comin’,” grinned Jazz. “See ya later.”

Prowl walked away, towards the door. “Good offcycle, Steeldust.”

A helm popped up over the back of the couch. Steeldust grinned and waved to the leaving enforcer. “Bye, Prowl.”

“Say hi ta Silver fo’ us,” called Jazz.

Prowl rolled his optics as he opened the front door. “I will.”

“Have fun on yer reading date,” added Jazz.

Steeldust made kissing noises from the couch.

Prowl whirled. “Steeldust! Jazz! Can you two- Oh, never mind!”

The enforcer walked outside, firmly shutting the door behind him.

Jazz looked over his shoulder towards Steeldust. “Really?”

Steeldust shrugged, raising his whole servos and doorwings with the motion.

* * *

“Alright, it’s time fo’ recharge, ya troublemaker. Off ya go.”

Steeldust gestured downwards with a hand, quirking an optic ridge. “But I thought I was supposed to do my homework. And I’m not tired yet.”

Jazz moved to the living room. Placing his hands on his hips, he looked down at the youngling. “Really? Of course, _now_ ya wanna do dat.”

“Come here!” Swiftly picking up Steeldust, Jazz slung him over his shoulder and walked down the hall.

“Jazz!” Steeldust said through his laughter.

The investigator tossed the young speedster gently onto his berth. “Ready for recharge now?”

“Okay,” Steeldust said, crawling under the blanket. “Good offcycle, Jazz.”

“Good offcycle, Steel.”

Jazz left the room, turning off the lights as he exited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, on fanfiction.net where this story first was posted for the world's reading, I included a sort of "credit song" at the end of each chapter.. I may start adding them with the chapters here as well (I'll go back and add the one's I had for the previous sixteen chapters also). I dunno if that's an odd thing to do, I at least don't see it done very often, but anyways.   
> Here's the one I had picked for this chapter. Credit Song: Breadcrumbs - Jacob Lee
> 
> Thank you as always for reading! I'd love to read any comments you might have. :)


	18. Racers and Enforcers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rivalries and running. Danger and deciding.

Smokescreen stood watching as Steeldust ran laps around the track. Bluestreak sat next to him on a metal bench, timer in hand.

Steeldust had gotten faster in the nearly two vorns since they’d met, if that was possible.

He’d also gotten more fidgety, causing his teacher to kick him outside for a run when he found it hard to pay attention in class.

Which is what happened earlier. He’d been restless near the end of class, so their teacher let him go early to run off his extra energy.

Blue and Smokescreen had joined him once recess had started. Or rather, came out to watch.

The speedster hadn’t really stopped for very long, just long enough to say hi and then he was off again.

Smokescreen shook his helm. How Steeldust had that much pent up energy, he wasn’t sure.

Blue wondered if there was something bothering the speedster.

“How many laps has he done since we got out here?” the eleven-vorn-old asked.

Bluestreak glanced up at him. “I think seven.”

“Pfft, I wonder how many laps he did _before_ we got out here.”

The grey and red shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Suddenly, Blue’s face fell. “Oh, here comes Drag Strip and Wildrider.”

Smokescreen half turned and grimaced.

The two troublemakers were en route to the track, with several younglings following them.

“What do you think they want?” Bluestreak asked.

Steeldust had also seen them coming, and slid to a stop. Now, he was right beside his friends.

“I-don’t-know, but-probably-nothing-good.”

Letting out a squeak, Blue turned forwards again. “Steeldust, stop doing that!” he protested.

The speedster winced. “Sorry.”

The group of younglings reached the trio.

“Hey, mechs,” Swerve said, bouncing over to them. “Guess what? Drag Strip wants to race Steeldust again. I said he’s probably gonna lose again, but you know how the competitive idiot never listens.”

“If you’re done?” growled Drag Strip.

“Done what? Oh, done talking about you. Yeah, sure I mean there’s- “

Drag Strip narrowed his optics and stalked over to the red and white chatterbox. “Do you ever shut up?”

Swerve clapped his mouth shut.

“That’s better.” With a smirk, Drag Strip turned his attention to Steeldust. “So, you heard him. What do you say?”

Steeldust narrowed his optics. “Seriously, Drag Strip?”

“Yeah.”

Rolling his optics, Steeldust sighed. “Fine, if it’ll make you leave us alone for awhile.”

He wandered over to the starting line. “Coming?”

“You know he’s gonna beat you, right?” someone from the crowd said.

“Shut up!” barked the orange speedster. “This time, _I’m_ going to win.”

“He’s not going to win,” a youngling whispered to her friend. The two femmelings giggled as they watched the speedsters.

“How many laps?” called Wildrider.

“Three,” replied Drag Strip. Seeing Bluestreak was holding a timer, he pointed towards him.

“You. Pipsqueak. Time us.”

The Praxian nodded. He got ready to do as the bully demanded.

“Go!” yelled Wildrider.

The two speedsters were off like a shot.

Swerve stood next to Smokescreen. “Drag Strip thinks that since Steeldust got sent out here early and has been running, that he’ll be tired. The mech thinks he’ll have a better chance now, which could just be correct.”

“Huh. So that’s why the crowd came,” Smokescreen said thoughtfully. “What rousing speech did Wildrider give?”

The red and white shrugged. “The usual, hey come look at this or I’ll kick you into next decaorn sort of thing. Though he did add in some, we think Drag Strip’s found a way to actually beat Steeldust this time.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

Bluestreak piped up then. “I think Steel will still win. He’s really quick. I bet they’ll accept him into races in a few vorns.”

“Yeah,” added another youngling who’d been listening to the conversation. “He can probably beat every mecha they have. I don’t know what all the fuss is about with them. We’ve got our very own racer right here.”

“Steel ‘ll probably beat Wingracer’s standing record when he gets there,” remarked Smokescreen.

Swerve waved them off with a hand. “I admit, Steeldust is good, but you know who’s better? Blurr. He’s probably gonna beat the record first.”

“Are you sure?” asked the other youngling, not convinced. “He’s fast, but I’m pretty sure Steel could beat him.”

Shaking his helm, Swerve frowned. “No, he couldn’t. Blurr’s definitely faster.”

The two argued back and forth some more, Swerve practically singing with praise of the pro racer.

Bluestreak and Smokescreen shared a look. They were both glad that Steeldust was out of hearing range, the race having already started.

He didn’t need to hear this again.

Smokescreen then looked out at the track and couldn’t help but laugh.

Not only was Steeldust in the lead, he was running backwards, almost dancing away from Drag Strip. The orange speedster was yelling nasty threats and such, growing angrier and more annoyed as it went on.

When he got really mad, at times, Drag Strip seemed hardly like competition for Steeldust.

Who thought of it almost as a game sometimes now.

_“What a pair,”_ thought Smokescreen, shaking his helm with a chuckle.

* * *

“I beat you! I totally beat you!” Drag Strip yelled, practically prancing around Steeldust as they walked down the hall.

“You beat me. Hooray,” Steeldust said dryly.

He sent an amused look to Smokescreen, who returned it.

“Who’s the best now, huh, Steeldust?” the ecstatic Drag Strip asked. “That’d be me! See you later, losers!”

Pausing, Smokescreen and Steeldust watched him disappear around a corner, Wildrider close behind.

“Nice of you to let him win for once, Steel,” smirked Smokescreen, looking down at his friend.

Steeldust shrugged. “Eh, I was tired. Maybe he’ll stop bugging me to race now. To keep his win, you know?”

Bluestreak laughed. “You really think so? He’ll be back, probably in a few orns.”

“You’re probably right, Blue,” agreed Steeldust.

“Nice race, Steeldust,” a classmate said shyly as the trio passed her. “Even though you didn’t win I mean.”

“Uh, thanks.” Steeldust smiled, awkwardly rubbing the back of his helm. “See you in class.”

“Speaking of class, I better go,” Smokescreen said with a smirk before taking off. “Bye!”

“Later,” Steeldust replied. “Hurry, Blue. We’ve got to go too.”

“I’m coming! Do you ever get tired of hurrying?” Bluestreak wondered as he jogged to keep up with Steeldust.

“This is nothing, just a brisk walk.”

Steeldust paused, turning his attention to his friend. Who sent him a look.

“Oh. I guess you’re jogging... Sorry, Blue.”

The Praxian sighed.

“It’s okay. I’m used to it.”

* * *

Blurr glanced up from his schoolwork as Fasttrack entered their room.

“Hey, Blurr, this came for you,” the other fifteen-vorn-old said, handing him a small datapad.

Curious, Blurr took the datapad. “Thanks-Fasttrack.”

“No problem.”

Fasttrack sat down at his desk and pulled his homework out of a subspace pocket.

Blurr turned on the datapad, beginning to read the letter.

_‘Blurr, I’m guessing you probably aren’t expecting me to write to you. But here I am, I guess. I can’t really talk to you any other way; I don’t have a comm installed yet. Cause you know, I’m not old enough yet._

_Jazz told me about, well you know. The bond thing._

_Yeah. I guess what I really want to know is why. I mean, I thought we were close. You were gone most of the time and stuff, but we got along._

_Didn’t we? Did I do something wrong? You could’ve just told me._

_I just don’t understand. And I want my brother back._

_If you get this, I just want you to know, even if you don’t care about me anymore, I still care about you._

_Your brother, Steeldust.’_

Blurr stared at the datapad. _“What-am-I-supposed-to-with-this? I-can’t-write-him-back. What-does-he-really-expect?”_

Opening a drawer in his desk, the speedster shoved the datapad deep into the bottom of it.

Fasttrack glanced over, confusion and curiosity written on his faceplate. “What was it?”

“Nothing,” muttered Blurr, going back to his homework.

There was no way he could face his brother again.

Ever.

* * *

Steeldust, Bluestreak, and Smokescreen walked towards home. Their creators and guardian had decided that it would be okay for them to walk home from school by themselves.

Steeldust’s was the farthest, and even it wasn’t that far.

Plus, they were getting older now.

Fairly street-smart too in the two eldest ones’ cases.

“So, what do you think we should do on our next orn off?” asked Bluestreak, walking along between his two friends. “And depending what it is, we could invite Swerve and some others too.”

“Hmm, there’s only like one orn off left before school’s out,” said Smokescreen.

“Oh yeah!” Bluestreak thought a few kliks. “We could do lots of stuff then. Like go to the park and go exploring and all sorts of neat things.”

“Yeah, that sounds great!” Steeldust said eagerly, doorwings twitching excitedly.

Smokescreen agreed. “It does. We should ask Swerve if he has any ideas.”

They stopped at an intersection, waiting to cross. Chattering on about different things they could do or schemes they could pull off, they missed their time to cross and had to wait again.

Steeldust was listening to Bluestreak when he saw something that caught his attention.

Letting out a quick gasp, he began shoving his friends down the street, the opposite direction they had been going.

“Hey!” Bluestreak said.

“Steeldust!” Smokescreen protested, digging his pedes in and halting them. “What’re you doing?”

“Move,” hissed the speedster urgently. He grabbed Bluestreak by the wrist and pulled him forward again.

Smokescreen frowned and hastily followed.

Ducking into an empty doorway, Steeldust peered back out carefully. Two pairs of blue optics looked with him.

“What are we hiding from?” demanded Smokescreen, searching the street.

“Him,” Steeldust whispered, gesturing with his helm.

The two Praxians followed his line of sight.

A black and white law enforcer stood at the crossing, where they had been not very long ago. He looked like he was casually out for a stroll, but his optics said otherwise.

They were piercing, searching. Almost as if he was hunting for someone.

“The enforcer? We’re hiding from an enforcer?” Bluestreak asked. Turning to look up at Steeldust, his optics widened. “Steeldust, what did you do?!”

“Shhh!” Steeldust hissed, lifting a digit to his faceplate. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Umm, then why are we hiding? Enforcers won’t hurt you,” whispered the grey and red.

Steeldust and Smokescreen watched the enforcer with narrowed optics. Bluestreak looked from one to the other in confusion, twitching his doorwings nervously.

The black and white mech began to move, striding in the direction of their hiding place.

“Steeee-lll, he’s coming this way,” Smokescreen said, backing up a bit. Pulling the younger two backwards, he stood against the wall in the shadows.

“He looks like he’s looking for something,” Bluestreak mused. “Are you sure you didn’t do anything, Steeldust?”

“Shhh!” Smokescreen and Steeldust chorused.

The enforcer was almost at their doorway now. The three younglings stayed still, holding their vents. Smokescreen clapped a hand over Bluestreak’s mouth.

“Hey, younglings,” the enforcer said, grinning down at them as he passed. He had appeared to know exactly where they were.

The trio were still for several kliks after, listening.

“Is he gone?” Bluestreak asked, moving Smokescreen’s hand.

Steeldust cautiously poked his helm out.

The enforcer had disappeared.

“He’s gone,” Steeldust said lowly, walking back onto the sidewalk.

“Well, I kinda get why you pulled us over here,” remarked Smokescreen. He joined Steeldust and looked in the direction the law enforcer had gone. “He seemed like trouble. There’s something off about him.”

Bluestreak shivered. “I didn’t like his smile. It was kinda mean looking. Like how Wildrider or Drag Strip or Wheeler smile.” He moved gingerly out of the doorway.

“Steeldust, why did we hide. Do you know him?”

Shaking his helm, Steeldust started back to the intersection. His doorwings were still flared upwards. “That’s Barricade, I think. Prowl told me to stay away from him.”

Tapping his pede, Smokescreen looked up in thought. “I’ve heard my Sire talking about him. He’s bad news.”

“He was kinda scary,” Bluestreak said, moving back in between his friends. “Enforcers aren’t supposed to be scary.”

With one last look, they crossed the street. Soon after, they split up. They said their goodbyes and hurried home, keeping an optic out for the black and white enforcer.

* * *

Jazz trailed Barricade from a good distance, keeping a close optic on him.

The enforcer didn’t seem to notice he was being followed. Hadn’t given any indication all orn in fact.

Slipping into an alley, the investigator took a short cut that would bring him closer, but prevent himself from being spotted.

Normally, Jazz wouldn’t care if an enforcer got transferred to his turf.

But this one?

Jazz could smell trouble all over him.

Not to mention the questions he’d casually asked last time they’d met.

Questions about things that he shouldn’t know about.

Regaining his view of the street, Jazz paused, scanning the area.

This was one of the routes that Steeldust and his friends took to and from school.

Barricade walked by the visored mech’s hiding place, helm held high with a satisfied looking grin on his faceplate. As if he’d just found what he was looking for.

Jazz frowned, watching as the enforcer disappeared around the corner.

His frown grew deeper when he saw three familiar younglings appear from a doorway several yards away.

All three seemed somewhat shaken. Three pairs of doorwings were raised, three pairs of wide optics looked around cautiously.

_“They were hidin’ from him,”_ Jazz realized.

Good.

He didn’t want any of them anywhere near Barricade.

And he was going to have a chat to Prowl about this.

Climbing down off the roof he was crouching on; Jazz began following the younglings instead.

They didn’t notice him either as they rushed home.

* * *

Steeldust trudged inside the house, holding his datapads and school supplies in his servos. The bottom of his school bag had somehow broke when they were hiding from Barricade. He’d probably ripped it on something.

He wished he had subspace pockets. That was one thing he couldn’t wait to be older for.

That and getting an alt mode. Steeldust really couldn’t wait for that.

Balancing on one pede, he carefully kicked the door closed behind him with the other.

Walking into the living room, Steel dropped his stuff on the table.

The front door opened again. Steeldust tilted his helm and wandered back into the kitchen.

“Hey, Steel,” Jazz said, closing the door behind himself.

Quirking an optic ridge as he looked up, Steeldust twitched his doorwings. He had come almost right home from school, what was Jazz doing home so early?

“Hi, Jazz. Why’re you home already?”

The investigator sighed, rubbing the back of his helm. “Well, ya see, Ah had some stuff ta take care of.”

Satisfied, Steeldust nodded. “Oh, okay.” He went back to the living room and flopped onto his tank on the couch, datapad in front of him.

Jazz followed him, sitting down on one of the chairs. Leaning forward, he observed Steeldust wasn’t really focused on his datapad.

“Ya look like yer tryin’ ta figure how ta tell me somethin’, Steel.”

Steeldust glanced up, then nodded. “Me and Smokey and Bluestreak were walking home this orn. And we think we saw that enforcer Prowl warned me to stay away from.”

“Ah wondered if dat was what ya were thinkin’ bout. Ya seen him and hid?”

“Yeah, I saw him. Bluestreak asked why we were hiding and if I did something,” Steeldust replied, furrowing his optic ridges. He suddenly sat up, doorwings twitching. “Wait, how did you guess?”

“Ah’ve been followin’ him around since he left the enforcer office early dis orn,” said Jazz. “An’ Ah saw you three come out o’ yer hidin’ spot. Then, Ah followed ya home.”

Blue-green optics widened. “You were there? And following us? Wow, you’re good.”

Jazz smirked. “Ah know.”

“Why were you following Barricade?” Steeldust wondered, tilting his helm. “Do you think he’s bad?”

“Kinda. Ah don’t trust him.”

The youngling shook his helm rapidly. “Me neither. He was looking for something, or someone. And I don’t think he’s very nice. Blue was really scared after he walked by and saw us.”

Jazz froze. “He saw ya?”

“Yeah, he seemed to know exactly where we were, looked right at us and smiled when he went by. I was sure that we hid before he seen us.”

The investigator frowned. He was definitely talking to Prowl now.

* * *

Silver walked from the shop to the edge of the sidewalk. She was just about to step off and drive away when a voice stopped her.

“Good offcycle, pretty thing.”

Rolling her optics, she turned, ready with a quick-witted reply.

She paused a klik when she saw the mech who had spoken to her.

A law enforcer, coloured mostly black with some white paint, leaned casually against a nearby lamp pole. His servos were crossed as he studied her, looking her up and down.

Silver rose her optic ridges, lifting her chin. “Good offcycle to you, _Officer_.”

Helm held high, she turned to leave.

The enforcer moved swiftly and caught her elbow joint. “Going so soon? Such a shame, I was hoping that we could get to know one another.”

Silver glared up at him, wrenching her servo free. “I think not. Now leave me alone.

“Or what?” the enforcer grinned, tone sarcastic. “You’ll call the enforcers?”

The femme side-stepped him, sprinting down the sidewalk. Her optics darted around. The area was empty. The shops and stores were now closed for the offcycle, including the one she had just left.

It was just her and the enforcer she assumed was Barricade.

Silver knew she had to get out of there.

The mech chuckled lowly, running after the femme. _“Apparently she wants to play a game of chase. Fine by me.”_

Silver opened an internal comm as she ran. _“Prowl. I could use a hand.”_

_“Silver, what is wrong?”_ came the quick reply.

_“There’s an enforcer chasing me. I assume it’s the one you warned me about.”_

_“I’m on my way.”_

Silver checked over her shoulder.

The enforcer was right behind her.

He reached out and caught her servo again, stopping her in her tracks.

“Let me go!” Silver snarled, whipping around to face him.

Barricade tilted his helm. “Feisty aren’t you. I like that.”

“I said, let me go!”

Reaching for her other servo, Barricade backed Silver against the nearby wall. She jerked away, trying to get out of his hold, but he was stronger.

In the near distance, a siren wailed.

Silver hoped it was Prowl.

Ignoring the sound, the enforcer leered down at his captive. “Calm down, I won’t hurt you,” he said, tone and smile suggesting otherwise.

The femme tried to shove down the fear that was rising up within her. She kicked her attacker in the knee joint.

Hard.

Wincing, the enforcer glanced down, loosening his grip ever so slightly.

Silver saw his distraction and used it.

Letting her pedes go limp, she dropped to the ground.

Being pulled by the sudden movement, the mech’s helm collided with the wall. He let go of Silver and she quickly scrambled to her pedes and bolted.

At the next block, she turned, almost tripping in her haste.

A strong pair of servos caught her.

Looking up, Silver’s fear turned to relief as she saw it was a different enforcer.

Her enforcer.

“Silver, are you alright?” Prowl asked, searching her faceplate in earnest.

Collapsing against him, Silver nodded. “I’m fine.”

Holding her gently, Prowl guided his courted the way she had come.

They looked down the street.

It was empty.

Prowl and Silver exchanged a glance.

“He was right there a few kliks ago,” Silver said, pointing to where she’d last seen the other enforcer.

Cautiously scanning his surroundings with sharp optics, Prowl flicked his doorwings. They were not picking up anything.

Whoever it was that had been after Silver was gone.

He had his suspicions though.

Prowl had been concerned about Barricade’s transfer to this sector before. Now, with what Jazz had told him, and the event that had just transpired, he definitely was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Credit Song: No Escape (Instrumental) - Tommee Profitt


	19. More Trouble Brewing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mysterious mecha and plots. Kids being kids. More things for our favourite investigator and enforcer to puzzle over.

Barricade sat in his alt mode not far from the school. He was hidden, but could see the track behind the building clearly.

Two younglings ran around in a circle in a seemingly casual jog.

Casual, but faster than the average youngling.

The law enforcer sent out a secure comm request.

“Yes, Barricade? Make it quick, I’m busy.”

“You know that youngling you hired me to find?”

“Yes, yes. What about him?”

“I believe I’ve located him,” said Barricade. “The description matches, not to mention his records. He is, as was expected, in Praxus.”

“Perfect. I knew hiring you was a good choice. And has the youngling inherited his sire’s speed?”

Chuckling, Barricade watched the navy and black. “Affirmative.”

“Wonderful. We’ll just keep an optic on him for now. When he’s a bit older, I may just pay him a visit. Make an offer he can’t refuse.”

“From what I’m seeing, it won’t be hard to convince him,” replied Barricade. He paused a klik. “You know, I may have found another one who would be interested as well.”

“Oh? Let me guess, a rival for the young racer? Is he any good?”

“You could say that. I’ll look into the school’s database and find more out about the youngling if you wish.”

“Do that and let me know what you find out, Barricade.

“Now, what have you to report about your- _Research project._ My contact is getting anxious.”

With a laugh, the enforcer gleefully replied, “It’s only a matter of time before the plan can be set in motion.”

“Splendid. I will relay your message to my contact. Keep up the good work, Barricade.”

With that, the comm was disconnected.

Barricade chuckled. Things were going well. If this continued, he should be able to finish his job by the end of the jour.

Then, he could move on from Praxus.

_“As long as that nosy investigator and his suspicious enforcer friend keep to their own business.”_

Which could be dealt with if the need arose.

Driving out of his parking space, the black and white moved off to his next task.

Completely unaware that a certain enforcer and investigator had heard almost everything.

* * *

“Whaddya think the mech means by research project? An’ what would someone want with Steeldust an’ Dragstrip?” Jazz asked, sitting across the desk from Prowl.

The enforcer shook his helm, rubbing his chevron in thought. “I do not know, Jazz. If we could figure out who Barricade was talking to, it might give us a clue. But we will have to keep a close optic on him.”

“Can’t we do anythin’?” The visored investigator threw up his hands. “We’ve got enough things against him, don’t we?”

Prowl twitched his doorwings. “Unfortunately, it is almost our word against his.”

“And what about Silver?”

“I already questioned him on that,” growled Prowl. “He claims to have been elsewhere with a friend. The friend confirmed his story.”

“Seriously? But it was him wasn’t it?”

“We are quite certain. There’s nothing we can do. Yet.”

Jazz leaned back in his chair and groaned. “Dis playin’ by da rules is ridiculous sometimes, ya know dat?”

“Jazz-“

“We better keep a good watch on the mech.”

“Agreed.”

* * *

Steeldust brought his servos up in front of his torso, blocking his opponent’s strike. Dancing a few steps away, he ducked under another one.

Letting himself crumple to the ground, the navy and black rolled to the side, aiming a kick to his opponent’s pedes as he went.

The other fighter jumped over the pede trying to trip him. He launched himself forwards, landing on top of Steeldust.

“Oof,” grunted Steeldust. He squirmed out of the other youngling’s grip and lightly kicked him in the helm.

“Ouch,” came the protest.

Steeldust was grabbed by the pede and dragged backwards. He twisted, grabbing the wrist of the servo holding him. With a quick chopping motion, he used his free hand to smack the elbow joint of his opponent.

Once released, Steeldust scrambled to his pedes, the other mecha doing the same, while rubbing his wrist.

Wasting no time, Steeldust charged, aiming low for the pedes.

The other youngling surprisingly caught him by the shoulderplates, holding him back. Steeldust brought his doorwings upward, catching the youngling in the jaw with one.

“Oww.”

“Sorry,” muttered Steeldust, backing away. He watched his opponent carefully, stance ready to move.

He didn’t have to wait long.

Charging towards him, the older youngling feigned right.

Steeldust took the bait and dodged to avoid.

He moved right where his opponent wanted him.

In astrokliks he was on his backplates, a shocked expression across his faceplate, wind knocked out of him.

Smokescreen stood above him, grinning. “I got ya.”

Taking the extended hand, Steeldust let Smokescreen pull him up. Bending over he coughed a few times, recovering from the hit.

“You good, Steel?”

Waving him off, the navy and black nodded. Straightening, he grinned up at his friend. “You bet. Nice move. I did not see that one coming.”

Smokescreen laughed. “Thanks, you did pretty well yourself. I’ve never thought of using my doorwings as a weapon.”

Steeldust smirked. “They’re actually quite effective as long as you don’t injure them.”

“Yeah, I can see that going really wrong in some cases,” nodded Smokescreen. Gesturing with a digit over his shoulder, he continued. “We’d better get going though. Someone will be looking for us sooner or later.”

“Right. We should spar again sometime though. It was fun.”

“Yeah, it was. See if you can manage to come closer to beating me next time,” Smokescreen smirked.

“Oh, so that’s how it is?” laughed Steeldust, walking alongside the taller youngling. “Maybe I was just taking it easy on you.”

“Well, I know you were laying off on the speed part. I doubt anything else though.”

“Haha. Rub it in will ya?”

The two younglings snickered as they left the empty room and travelled to their next classes.

“See you later, Steel.”

“Bye, Smokescreen.”

Truth be told, Steeldust may just have been holding back a little bit. Jazz had been teaching him some self defence lately. Steeldust in turn had showed Smokescreen some of the things he’d been taught, but not everything.

Smokescreen was already better than him, he didn’t need to know all Steel’s moves.

* * *

“Someone’s been looking for Steeldust?” Silver asked, looking up in concern.

“Apparently,” nodded Jazz, leaning a hand on the teacher’s desk. “Prowl and Ah overheard the mecha talkin’ earlier. Prowl’s working ta get some more security ‘round here.”

“I see.” Silver crossed her servos, resting them in front of her on the desk. Frowning, she continued. “Who do you think is looking for him? And why? He’s just a youngling.”

Jazz shrugged. “Somethin’ ta do with racin’ it seemed like. Ah dunno. It’s weird.”

“I’ll say.”

Getting to her pedes, Silver began gathering the things she was taking home with her.

“I assume you’ve already talked to the headmaster?”

“Yep.”

“Good.”

The two mecha left the classroom and made their way to the building’s entrance.

Once they reached the sidewalk, Silver turned to Jazz, giving him a questioning look.

“Was there something else you wanted to talk to me about, Jazz?”

“No, Ah’m just yer escort home,” replied the investigator with a grin.

The femme gave him a pointed look.

“Enforcer’s orders,” he added.

Sighing, Silver rolled her optics. “Really. You two don’t need to worry so much. I can take care of myself you know. And if not, I know who to call.”

Jazz shrugged. “Prowler’s just lookin’ out fo’ ya, Silv.”

“I know. And it’s awfully sweet of him to. You as well.”

“So, dis mean yer not gonna argue bout it anymore?” Jazz asked, grinning mischievously.

“No, it just means I appreciate the thought,” remarked Silver, smiling as she lifted her chin.

Jazz chuckled. “Ah guess we’ll have ta settle fo’ dat. Shall we?” Extending a hand, the investigator stepped onto the road.

Rolling her optics again, Silver let him take her hand and help her off the sidewalk. “You are ridiculous, you know that?”

“Yeah, Ah know,” Jazz replied. “Prowl’s told me lots. Ya must be hangin’ round him too much.”

Silver laughed and transformed into her alt form, driving away from the school. Jazz followed after, keeping watch for anyone suspicious.

He’d already taken Steeldust home, but had come back for Silver. Prowl would have come himself, but was otherwise occupied and was unable to.

* * *

Steeldust laid on the couch upside down, pedes propped up over the back. His blue-green optics took in every detail of the race he was watching on the holovid screen.

The upside-down racers zipped around the track, some pulling ahead, some falling behind.

Steeldust took it all in.

He was so absorbed in watching, that he didn’t hear Jazz come through the front door.

The investigator wandered into the living room, smirking at the sight. Leaning against the couch beside the pedes, he glanced down at the youngling.

“More fun ta watch the race dat way, Steel?”

Jazz ducked as two pedes came flying off the back of the furniture.

Steeldust sat up quickly, relaxing when he saw it was only Jazz.

“Oh. Hi, Jazz. I didn’t hear you come back.”

“Ah guess not,” nodded the mech. Tilting his helm, he continued. “Good race so far?”

Turning his attention back to the screen, Steeldust nodded rapidly. “Yeah, there’s three mecha who are holding their ground for first. I think it’ll be one of them, but I’m not sure who will finish first. Probably Lightwave.”

“Huh.” _“That’s the racer who was lookin’ for Steel that one time.”_

Jazz wondered temporarily if he was somehow connected to the dilemma with Barricade.

_“Probably not. Think he was friends wit’ the younglings’ sire.”_

After watching for a few kliks, Jazz picked up a datapad and walked around to sit on the couch next to Steeldust.

He had some researching to do. Silver had given him an idea about what to do to keep Steeldust safe.

Jazz didn’t like it, Silver didn’t either really. Prowl probably wouldn’t be a fan.

But it was something Jazz was good at and it would be very effective.

Hopefully Steeldust would be okay with it if Jazz decided to go ahead with the idea.

* * *

“You told Jazz that?”

Silver nodded. She placed a hand over Prowl’s. “I don’t particularly like the idea either, but you know it would work. And it wouldn’t have to be forever.”

“I suppose you’re right,” replied Prowl, thinking it over. “We will still keep surveillance for Drag Strip’s sake though. In addition, for you.”

“Prowl, stop worrying about me,” Silver said firmly. “You’re already wearing yourself out because you’re trying to do too much. You’re exhausted.”

“I am not taking on too many things if that is what you are implying.”

Silver gave him a pointed look, crossing her servos. “The fact you just said that? I think that says you know you are. Find someone else to help you deal with Barricade. Please. Jazz told me that Nightracer has already offered.”

“Of course, he did,” Prowl sighed. “Alright, I will talk to him next solarcycle.”

“Thank you, Prowl. You know I just don’t want to see you overwork yourself, right?”

Prowl nodded, taking his courted’s hand. “I know, Silver. Thank you.”

“I worry because I love you, Prowl.”

“I love you too, Silver.” The enforcer paused, then smiled, quirking an optic ridge. “Now who is worrying?”

Sending him a look, Silver smiled. “Really, Prowl. I suppose if you’re allowed to, then so am I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit Song: Born Ready - Dove Cameron
> 
> Thanks for reading! I'd love to read any comments/thoughts you may have!


	20. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decisions are made, and as a result, changes happen.

“What? We’re moving?” Steeldust asked, jerking his helm up.

Jazz nodded. He sat forward in his chair, putting his hands together. “Sorry, Steel, Ah hate ta take ya away from yer friends.”

Twitching his doorwings, Steeldust considered what to say. He didn’t want to move. His friends were here in Praxus.

But before Jazz adopted him, he’d moved around a lot. He was the kind of mecha that didn’t like to stay in one place for a long time.

That must be why they were moving.

Since adopting Steeldust, Jazz had stayed. Not even moving to a different sector.

“Okay, Jazz. Where are we going?”

_“Ah haven’t even told him why yet...”_ Jazz studied Steeldust carefully, not expecting this reaction.

“Altihex.”

Steeldust nodded thoughtfully. “That’s not too far away, right? And we’ll probably come back to visit, so we won’t have to say goodbye forever to mecha.”

“Yer right,” replied the black and white. “An’ of course we’ll come back. We can’t just leave Prowl an’ Blue’ an’ Smokey.”

With a grin, Steeldust continued. “I’ve never been to Altihex. It’ll be an adventure.”

Chuckling, Jazz returned the grin. “Well, Ah’m glad yer thinkin’ o’ it dat way.”

His tone then grew serious, faceplate sobering. “Are ya sure yer okay with this, Steeldust?”

“Jazz, I understand why. I don’t want to leave, but you’ve stayed here so long, for almost two vorns. I know you stayed here for me. It wouldn’t be fair if I made you stay longer.”

The investigator stared at the youngling. “How’d you get ta be so grownup?”

Steeldust shrugged. “I’m not just the little lost youngling you found anymore, Jazz. We’re family, and we gotta take care of each other. It’s my turn to take care of you.”

“Yer something special, Steel, always have been. Thanks for understanding me.”

Hopping off the couch, Steeldust walked over and hugged his guardian.

He didn’t want to go, but it would be okay.

Jazz held his little charge tight for a few kliks.

Pulling away, the investigator held Steeldust at servo’s length. “Ah appreciate yer lookin’ out fo’ me, Steel, an’ Ah got ta admit, Ah am gettin’ fidgety.

“But we’re movin’ cause someone’s after ya. Ah don’t know who exactly an’ it’s not right now it seems. Just in case, we’re gonna play a game of hide an’ disappear fo’ a bit.”

Steeldust tilted his helm, fear and concern invading his wide optics. “Does this have something to do with Barricade?”

Jazz grimaced. “Yeah. Seems he was s’posed ta track ya down fo’ someone. But don’t worry, we won’t let no one take ya away.”

Nodding the little mechling hugged Jazz again. “I know. Thanks for looking out for me too, Jazz.”

“Anytime, Steel.”

* * *

Bluestreak stared at his best friend in horror. “You’re leaving Praxus?”

Steeldust nodded, a look of misery and guilt on his faceplate. “I’m sorry. But I’ll come to visit, I promise.”

“It won’t be the same,” wailed Bluestreak, wringing his hands. “We won’t be able to go adventuring or go to the same school or anything.”

Steeldust looked down at his pedes, not knowing what to say.

“When are you leaving?” asked Smokescreen sadly.

“After school ends for the vorn,” Steeldust replied.

“Well,” said Swerve glumly. “At least we can hang out lots until then. I mean, that’s only a few decacycles away, but... You know.”

“Swerve’s right,” affirmed Smokescreen. “And like Steel said, he’ll be back.”

“I guess you’re right,” sniffed Bluestreak. He trudged over to Steeldust and threw his servos around him.

Steeldust returned the hug. “I’m-sorry-Blue. I-really-am.”

“It’s okay, Steel,” Bluestreak said sadly, not releasing his grip.

Steeldust looked down at Bluestreak, then at the rest of his friends. They each met his gaze, optics sad. His vents caught, but he refused to cry.

It was going to be okay. He would come back to Praxus.

* * *

Prowl and Jazz sat across the table from each other.

Finally, the heavy silence between them was broken.

“So, you decided to go through with it,” Prowl asked neutrally.

Jazz nodded slowly. “Yeah. Ah did.”

“Think you are doing what’s best?”

“Ah honestly don’t know, Prowler.” Jazz leaned forwards, resting his elbow joints on the table. He put his faceplate in his hands. “Ah just hope Ah am.”

“I think you are, Jazz.”

The investigator glanced at his friend. “Ya do?”

Prowl nodded, placing his folded hands on the table. “Silver is right. If Barricade can’t find Steeldust then neither can the mecha looking for him. You have the ability to disappear, covering your tracks extremely well. Even if you lay low just long enough for Barricade to become confused and leave, it will be worth it.

“And Jazz, I was wrong when I said you would not be able to care for Steeldust. You made the right decision in adopting him. You have done well with him.

“I apologize for doubting you.”

Jazz nodded, a little blindsided by his best friend’s words. He knew that Prowl hadn’t approved of it in the beginning. At all. The investigator had suspected the change of spark, but it surprised him that Prowl was telling him. And he knew how hard it was for the Praxian to apologize or admit he was wrong.

“Thanks, Prowler. Dat means a lot.”

They were quiet again for several kliks.

“Jazz.”

“Yeah, Prowl?”

“Just- Come back and visit. Steeldust will miss his friends and they will miss him.”

Prowl paused, glancing away for a moment. He then returned his gaze to Jazz, faceplate serious.

“And I will miss my friend.”

Jazz smiled sadly. “Ah’ll miss ya too, Prowl. Ah promise we’ll come back. Ya ain’t gonna get rid o’ us just like dat ya know.”

“I know,” Prowl said, the corners of his mouth lifting in a small smile. “This time, you have my permission to up and leave without telling me.”

Knowing what his friend was referencing, Jazz smirked. “Well, thanks.”

* * *

Steeldust sat on the roof, watching the sunrise. As he listened to music through his headphones, he pondered what Altihex would be like.

_“Will-the-younglings-at-my-new-school-like-me? What-are-the-teachers-going-to-be-like?”_

Hopefully he’d do as well there as he had here in Praxus.

_“But-I-don’t-want-to-replace-my-friends. They’re-not-replaceable._

_“What’s-Blue-gonna-do-now-if-Wildrider-bothers-him? I-guess-he’ll-still-have-Smokey-and-the-rest... I’m-gonna-miss-them... I-think-I’ll-even-miss-Drag-Strip-a-little.”_

Bringing his pedes close to his frame, Steeldust rested his chin on his knee joints.

_“But-I’ll-come-back-as-often-as-I-can. We’ll-all-be-okay. And-maybe-I-can-go-and-find-Blurr. Altihex-is-the-next-city-state-to-Iacon. And-I-know-where-his-school-is. Or-at-least-I-think-I-remember._

_“Maybe-then-he’ll-talk-to-me. Explain-why-he-broke-our-bond. He’s-never-wrote-me-back.”_

Steel set his mouth in a grim line, optic ridges furrowing.

_“I-have-to-talk-to-him. Even-if-it-seems-like-he-doesn’t-want-to-talk-to-me._

_“And-I-have-to-come-back-and-see-my-adopted-brother. I’m-not-gonna-abandon-Bluestreak-like-Blurr-abandoned-me.”_

Looking in the direction of Bluestreak’s house, the eight-and-three-quarter-vorn-old made an internal promise to himself.

_“I will never leave Bluestreak on his own. Ever.”_

* * *

Despite how they tried to make their remaining few decacycles together last, time flew by for the group of younglings.

It wasn’t just Steeldust who wouldn’t be returning to this school. Swerve was graduating this vorn, so he wouldn’t be back for the next term.

Knowing that two friends would be leaving didn’t help.

But everyone tried their best to enjoy what time was left.

Smokescreen, Steeldust, and Bluestreak spent most of it together, only separated for classes and most offcycles. Swerve and some others joined them for some adventures, but mostly, it was just the trio.

“I don’t want this to end,” Bluestreak said one orn when they were at the park.

Smokescreen slowed his swing down with his pedes, kicking up small clouds of dust and metal gravel. “It won’t end, Blue. It’s just gonna change.”

Bluestreak sat on his swing, looking at the ground. “Exactly. It won’t be the same.”

“Everything changes, Blue. Sometimes we don’t like it, but we just have to make the best of it,” replied the white and cerulean youngling. “Or at least that’s what my sire says.”

“I guess,” Bluestreak said with a shrug. Then, his faceplate brightened, doorwings perking back up as an idea came to him. “Hey, I know. We can write letters. Then it won’t seem so bad, right? I mean, we won’t be able to talk like when we’re together, but it’s something.”

Smokescreen nodded with a grin. “Yeah! Good thinking.”

Still swinging back and forth, Steeldust gave his agreement.

“Come on,” Smokescreen said as he got off of his swing. He gestured with a servo to his two companions as he began walking. “Let’s go to the energon sweets store.”

“Okay!” chorused the other two.

Steeldust leaped from his swing, which was still in motion. He landed neatly next to Smokescreen and gave him an unamused look. “Let me guess, I’m not allowed to carry them?”

“Nope.”

Bluestreak laughed as Steeldust stuck his glossa out at Smokescreen and marched away with his helm held high.

“You hold a grudge way too long,” Steel called back.

Smokescreen smirked and followed the speedster, Bluestreak close behind him.

* * *

Barricade stealthily let himself into the prison through the side door. A _friend_ had already hacked the cameras remotely, setting them to a looped feed. In addition, he’d given Barricade the remaining key codes to any doors or computers that he couldn’t get himself.

Making it all too easy for the crooked law enforcer to accomplish what he had come to do.

The black and white grinned maliciously as he snuck through the shadows. A guard was standing nearby, halfway into recharge as he leaned against the wall with his servos crossed.

_“Well, this one won’t be much trouble to deal with,”_ thought Barricade.

He proceeded silently, and when he was close enough, he struck.

The guard slumped to the floor, unconscious.

Barricade moved on.

Reaching the first section containing the prisoners, the enforcer took care of the guard standing in front of the door in similar fashion to the first. He relieved the mech of his keys and weapons and then entered the room.

Quickly moving along the row of cells, Barricade located the mecha he was looking for.

The hulking mech glanced up when he saw the enforcer approach. A nasty grin spread across his scarred faceplate.

“So. You got in,” he rumbled.

Barricade nodded, returning the grin. “Yes. The contact has prepared a transport seven blocks west of here. You know your instructions?”

“You bet. Let me out and I’ll get the other mecha up and out.”

Unlocking the giant brawler’s cell, Barricade tossed him the key. “I’ll release the rest. You won’t see me again until we’re in Kaon.”

“Until next time then,” grunted the mech, already heading to unlock the next cell. “Good hunting, Barricade.”

The enforcer smirked as he left the large room. “It always is, Blackout.”

* * *

“Yer kiddin’ me.”

Prowl shook his helm. “Haven’t you seen the news, Jazz?”

The investigator twitched his doorwings. “Yeah. But Ah came down here ta see if it was true. How’d somebody get in ta three detention centres?”

“That’s what we are trying to figure out,” replied Nightracer, looking up from his desk. “It definitely was someone with friends in high, or perhaps, low places. The security was hacked remotely, we cannot trace it back to them though. They did a good job, very professional.”

“Fantastic,” muttered Prowl. He rubbed his chevron. “Now roughly three hundred prisoners are running loose across two city-states.”

Nightracer winced and cleared his throat. “I hate to contradict you Prowl, but there are witnesses saying that there were groundbridges sighted.”

Jazz groaned. “Great. So, we have a bunch of thugs dat escaped ta who knows where.”

“Likely they’ll head to the Badlands where there is less chance to be arrested again,” remarked Prowl. “Have any been intercepted and returned?”

“Not many. Enforcers in Protihex caught on quite quickly, so several mecha were detained there. The two prisons in Praxus had more security systems hacked, so the response time was delayed,” replied Nightracer, checking his computer. “To top it off, we lost an enforcer. He was a good mech, had a family too.”

“Since we have been asked to assist, have they provided any new information? Do we have any leads on who is behind this?”

The blue and white shook his helm. “Not yet. Although, I believe all three of us have our suspicions.”

“Barricade,” Jazz growled.

Prowl held up a hand. “Calm down, Jazz. We need to go about this carefully- “

The other two glanced towards what had caught Prowl’s attention.

Barricade was strolling through the front doors of the office. A wide grin plastered his faceplate and there was a spring in his step.

“Good orn, mechs,” the enforcer said as he passed, nodding in their direction.

“Greetings,” Prowl replied, barely keeping his tone neutral.

“Hey,” muttered Jazz, frowning as he watched the enforcer walk down the hall.

Nightracer said nothing, forcing his doorwings to stay still, lest he betray his emotions.

After Barricade was out of hearing range, the three continued their conversation.

“Well, he sure is chipper dis orn,” snarked Jazz. “Think it had somethin’ ta do with last offcycle?”

“I do not know, Jazz,” replied Prowl, chin in hand. He took a moment to think, forming a plan.

“I want you to head to sector thirteen and start working on their surveillance equipment to see if you can recover anything. If you finish there in time, please head to sector five’s enforcement office. I will go there myself to help, but we may need your expertise there as well.”

“An’ what about Protihex?”

“They already have enforcement and investigation from their city-state on it,” answered Nightracer. “What would you have me to do, Prowl?”

“Please keep an optic and audio out for any further information on the escapees’ locations,” the white and black enforcer replied. “As well as anything else that could be useful.

“Both of you let me know any findings.”

Jazz and Nightracer agreed to do so, and the three mechs dispersed.

It was going to be quite the orn.

* * *

Barricade cautiously glanced around. Seeing no one watching, he ducked into the alley. After finding a place to hide in the shadows, he opened a comm.

“Yes?” a deep voice replied.

“Blackout. Did everyone report in yet?” asked the enforcer, watching the alley entrance.

“No. Most have. Some merely have not bothered to, others were arrested again.”

Barricade grimaced. “Morons. Do I have to do everything for them?” He paused with a sigh. “Does the boss want me to go back and release them. Again?”

“No. If they were foolish enough to allow themselves to be rearrested, then they have no place in our movement.”

“True. What are my next instructions?”

After a few kliks of considering, the ‘copter replied. “Spies have observed enforcement investigating. Did you leave anything behind that might point them to you?”

“You know me, there’s nothing.” Barricade paused, listening for a klik.

A group of younglings was approaching. Nothing to be concerned about.

The enforcer continued, lowering his voice. “Though I have reason to think one Praxian enforcer and a Polyhexian investigator are suspicious.”

“You may want to consider disappearing then, Barricade.”

“Won’t that raise suspicion?”

“It will if there’s already suspicion there. Your choice. If you want to take the chance and stay, be my guest. Just know we won’t be coming for you either,” said Blackout, tone uninterested.

“Fine. I’ll leave. I know what happens if I get caught,” snapped Barricade. Straightening, he began walking towards the street. “I will meet you in Kaon. Regular place.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get caught.”

Barricade cut the comm, just as he was striding back onto the sidewalk.

Several younglings, familiar ones, almost ran into him.

“Watch it,” snarled Barricade, glaring down at the four of them.

The smallest one, a Praxian, yelped and ducked fearfully behind the tallest one, also a Praxian. The orphan moved swiftly in between them and the enforcer, flaring his doorwings and plating aggressively. The fourth youngling, probably the oldest, just kind of stood there.

Barricade thought it was comical.

The tallest doorwinger looked up at him. “I apologize, Officer. We didn’t see you there.”

“Yeah,” added the red and white one. “All of a sudden you were just, there, you know? Just, poof! And I was busy telling my friends this story here and I didn’t even hear you coming cause- “

The youngling went on and on.

Barricade, expression bored, crossed his servos.

The white and blue clapped a hand over his friend’s mouth. “I think we’d better let the enforcer go now, Swerve.”

“Right. Yeah, I bet he’s got lots to do. Lots of enforcer stuff-“ The red and white youngling, apparently called Swerve, started talking again, shoving the hand away.

Barricade rolled his optics and walked away.

Smokescreen, Bluestreak, and Steeldust watched him warily. Swerve chattered on.

“Do you ever shut up?!” hissed Steeldust, whirling to face Swerve. “That was Barricade!”

Swerve just looked confused. “Who’s Barricade?”

Steeldust facepalmed.

“Let’s just go. We’ll tell you later, Swerve,” said Smokescreen, dragging Bluestreak in the opposite direction of the law enforcer.

“Haven’t we told you already?” inquired Steeldust, quirking an optic ridge.

“No. Maybe?” Swerve said with a shrug. “I don’t remember.”

“You probably were too busy talking to listen,” Steel grumbled.

“Hey. I know I talk a lot, but I do listen to you mechs.”

“Well, we sure listen to you. A lot,” Smokescreen remarked over his shoulder. “Hurry up, slowpokes.”

“Hey!” protested Swerve and Steeldust.

“I’ll show you slow!” Steeldust added, zipping past Smokescreen and Bluestreak.

Blue’ glanced up at Smokescreen. “Really, Smokey? You knew that would happen, right? Now we’ve lost him!”

Smokescreen sighed, shaking his helm. “I forgot.”

“He’ll circle back to find us,” said Swerve, waving them off with a hand. “He always does. And hey, now we can go at our own pace. If we walk with Steeldust, I usually end up jogging.”

“That’s cause in proportion to the rest of your frame, your pedes are shorter than his,” Smokescreen said.

“Are you saying I’m short?”

Smokescreen glanced down at him, raising his optic ridges. “For a mechling who’s older than all of us, four vorns older than Steeldust...”

Swerve stuck out his glossa. “Maybe you’re just tall. Anyways, Steeldust just walks fast.”

“Way to state the obvious, Swerve,” Smokescreen smirked.

“Well, you weren’t doing it. You were just making up other fancy reasons for why I can’t keep up with him.”

“Keep up with who?”

Swerve and Bluestreak both jumped. They glanced behind them to see Steeldust.

The speedster waved, a smirk on his faceplate. “No, I have not been here the whole time. I just circled back around the block to find you _slowpokes_.”

“Stop sneaking up on us!” exclaimed Swerve. “Do you know how annoying it is to be minding your own business and then suddenly someone is right beside or behind you? How are you so sneaky anyways?”

Steeldust shrugged. “I can’t help it. I’m just light on my pedes. Besides, it’s highly entertaining.”

“That’s how he doesn’t fall off of high stuff like the railings on the playground,” Bluestreak added. Then, he frowned. “At least he doesn’t sneak up on you and poke your doorwings, Swerve.”

“I don’t have doorwings.” Swerve grimaced and stomped ahead, muttering about tall speedsters who were too sneaky.

Turning to the two Praxians, Steeldust tilted his helm. “Soooo... What’d I miss?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, I'd love to read any comments you may have.
> 
> Credit Song: Those Nights - Skillet


	21. Friends, Enemies, and Frenemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets, dreams, and goodbyes.

Silver walked into the office, beelining for the front desk.

Nightracer glanced up, smiling wearily when she reached him.

“Good offcycle, Silver. What can I do for you?”

The femme placed her hands on her hips, looking down at him disapprovingly. “Nightracer, you look exhausted. Why are you still here? You usually have shifts here during the orn.”

The mech shrugged. “I am still working on the case.”

Silver shook her helm. “No wonder you and Prowl get along so well. Neither of you quit until you drop.”

“I am assuming you are here to see Prowl?”

Scoffing lightly, the young teacher smirked. “More like send him home.”

Grinning, Nightracer tiredly gestured with a hand. “You know where he is. You are welcome to go and get him.”

“Thanks, Nightracer,” Silver said with a smile. She strolled away, heading for Prowl’s office.

Reaching it, she pressed the entry request button beside the door.

There was no answer.

Silver looked up at the ceiling in exasperation. _“Prowl.”_

Keying in the code on the keypad, the femme entered the small office.

And sighed at what she saw.

Prowl’s desk was covered in various datapads in addition to his computer. The mech himself was slumped over in his chair, helm resting on his servos on the desk.

Walking quietly around the desk, Silver gently laid a hand on Prowl’s backplate, shaking him. “Prowl. Wake up, sweetspark,” she murmured softly.

The white and black stirred, slowly sitting up. He blinked, glancing around the room. Rubbing his faceplate, he asked, “Silver? What are you doing here?”

Crossing her servos, Silver raised an optic ridge. “Prowl, the real question is why are you still here? It’s late.”

Gesturing to the contents of his desk, the enforcer sighed. “I was trying to finish here before I went home. The mecha responsible for the prisoners escaping must be found and brought to justice.”

“Well, you are exhausted. Time to pack up and go home. It will be here when you return. Besides, you will be able to come back next orn and do a much better job when you’re rested.”

“I suppose you are right.”

“Yes, I am,” nodded Silver. She straightened, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Now let’s go.”

Prowl got to his pedes, picking up a datapad and subspacing it. He followed Silver out of his office, locking it behind them.

When they reached the reception area, Silver stepped over to Nightracer.

Tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention, the teacher pointed to the door. “You too. Time to go home.”

Nightracer glanced from Prowl to Silver a few times, a little unsure of himself. Prowl gave him a tired shrug as his courted continued to stare the poor mech down.

“Yes, ma’am. I will gather my things and be on my way,” the blue and white finally said.

Nodding, Silver resumed her exiting of the building. Calling over her shoulder she added, “You had better. I will know if you don’t.”

The two mechs exchanged a look but said nothing. Nightracer began to pack up, letting the offcycle shift on duty know he was leaving.

Prowl followed Silver out into the offcycle.

“Silver, I will escort you home- “

The femme held up her hand. “No, you will not. Officer Prowl is exhausted and he is the one needing an escort. Teacher Silver will be fine driving by herself from there. Do not argue please.”

“Why are you speaking like that?” asked the confused Prowl.

“Because I’m checking to see just how exhausted you are. If you hadn’t caught it, then we would be taking a transport.”

The two walked onto the street, transformed, and drove off. Once reaching Prowl’s house, they said good offcycle and Silver went home.

Prowl managed to wait until she sent him an internal comm, telling him she had arrived at home safely. Almost immediately, the enforcer fell back into recharge.

It had been a long few orns.

* * *

Meanwhile, a certain investigator was far from recharging.

Jazz crept through the darkened streets; his visor dimmed as to avoid alerting mecha to his presence.

This section of the city was empty, except for several homeless mecha huddled in the little shelter they could find. Empty optics watched Jazz warily as he moved through their territory.

None made a move to stop him.

All were likely too afraid.

In some sectors like this, you might find mecha willing to try and steal from higher caste mecha.

Or each other.

These ones wouldn’t bother with him, unless he bothered them.

They didn’t have much, but they’d protect what little they did have.

Jazz felt pity for them, but there wasn’t anything he could do for them. There was too many of them for one mech alone to help.

Hopefully, Orion Pax and Megatronus would eventually get somewhere with their movement.

Though Jazz had a lot of doubts about the gladiator.

For multiple reasons.

The mech also just rubbed him the wrong way and they hadn’t even met.

_“Ah hope Orion ain’t walkin’ in ta somethin’ foolish.”_

He didn’t want to see his friend get hurt.

Reaching the outskirts of the city, Jazz transformed into his sleek alt form and sped off in the direction of Iacon.

He, Prowl, and Nightracer hadn’t found very much about who was responsible for the release of the prisoners from three detention centres. The mecha that had been rearrested had not supplied any information. They didn’t seem to really know who it was that had let them out.

Jazz still thought it was an inside job.

And Barricade had up and disappeared.

Coincidence?

The investigator didn’t think so.

It was time to see what his data clerk friend could find for him.

* * *

_Steeldust walked swiftly down the street, helm and optics darting this way and that. He peered warily into the shadows, audios on high alert._

_He was back home, his first home, in Polyhex. The street seemed familiar, but also strange and foreign._

_“How’d I get here?” he wondered to himself._

_Off to his left, there was a sudden noise, jerking him out of his thoughts. It sounded like someone’s pedefall. A loud one too, belonging to somebody bigger than Steeldust._

_Spooked, Steeldust froze, plating and doorwings rising. His spark hammered in his chest. His audios strained, but the offcycle was now silent._

_Had he actually heard something? Maybe it was just his imagination-_

_A dark figure suddenly appeared from above, landing several yards away._

_Steeldust jumped and let out a yelp. Staring fearfully up at the newcomer, he started moving backwards._

_The mecha moved with him, steadily and at the youngling’s pace. It never got closer or farther away._

_Details began to come clear on the shadowy figure. Red optics seemed to bore into Steeldust’s spark and mind. A pistol became visible at the mecha’s hip. Black and white paint gleamed in the moonlight._

_The faceplate of the short mecha then split in a nasty grin as Steeldust realized who it was._

_A cold shiver ran up Steeldust’s spinal strut._

_“Barricade,” he said in a whisper, optics widening even further._

_The law enforcer chuckled as he continued to keep pace with the speedster. “Think you and your investigator friend can outsmart me, youngling? I will just find you again.”_

_Steeldust turned and bolted. His long pedes spurred him forward, away from Barricade._

_He checked over his shoulder and almost tripped._

_Barricade was still right behind him. The same distance he’d been before._

_The enforcer folded his servos behind his back and shook his helm as he walked. “You can run, but you won’t be able to hide forever.”_

_Darting around a corner, Steeldust ran into something. Or rather, someone._

_Laid out flat on his back from the impact, Steeldust shook his helm. He looked up and gasped. He began crawling backwards, away._

_Four more mechs stood in the alley._

_They were featureless, just like Barricade had been at first. Only their optics, cold and evil, were visible._

_“We will find you eventually, young racer,” said Barricade from his place where he’d come to a halt._

_Whirling to face the enforcer, Steeldust realized he was almost right in front of him. Close enough to touch._

_Barricade bent down to look at him in the optics. “And you will not see us coming.”_

_With that, the enforcer threw back his helm and laughed. The other mechs, the shadowy ones, joined him. The sounds echoed around the alley, surrounding the youngling in the midst._

_Desperately, Steeldust scrambled to his pedes. He ran to the left, halting when he saw more shadows with red optics approaching. He tried the opposite direction, but the same thing happened._

_His vents came in short gasps as he looked around him in terror._

_He was surrounded. There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide._

_The mecha began closing in, their eerie laughter getting louder and louder._

_Steeldust knelt down to the ground, covering his audios with his hands._

_The mecha reached him, the closer ones reaching towards him, Barricade watching with that same sick smile._

_Huddling on the ground, covering his helm with his servos, Steeldust let out a long scream._

_“JAAAAAAAZZZZZZ!”_

* * *

Steeldust awoke with a start, sitting straight up with his servos in a defence position. Shaking his helm, he glanced around.

No mecha reaching to take him away. No Barricade.

He wasn’t in Polyhex, he was in Bluestreak’s room.

Sitting on the floor?

Bluestreak’s helm appeared over the edge of his berth. He looked down at his friend, who spun to face him, servos raised as if ready to hit him. Blue’s expression turned from concern to puzzlement, his blue optics watching him with worry.

“Are you okay, Steeldust?” he asked in a whisper.

Steeldust lowered his servos. His doorwings slumped and his shoulder and back plating flattened. Nodding, he answered, “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, Bluestreak.”

Bluestreak sat up and swung his pedes over the side of the berth. “Did you have another one of those dream things? You fell out of your berth.”

Looking around, Steeldust again noticed he was sitting on the floor. “Yeah, I guess so. Is that what woke you up?”

“I think so. All of a sudden, I just heard a loud noise. I woke up and you were sitting on the floor.”

“Oh.” Getting up, Steeldust walked over to his borrowed berth and climbed back in. _“At least I didn’t actually scream this time.”_

“Do you- Do you want to talk about it?” Bluestreak asked from his berth across the room.

“No,” said Steeldust quietly. “Maybe next orn.”

“Okay.”

“You should go back to recharge, Blue’. Sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s okay, Steel. I know you don’t mean to have dreams.” Bluestreak was back in recharge within a few astrokliks.

Steeldust however, stared at the ceiling for some time. He was now wide awake, thoughts running rampant rapidly through his helm.

Barricade had disappeared. Jazz and Steeldust were going to disappear too.

_“Will Barricade still find me like he did in my nightmare?”_ Steeldust wondered.

It took breems, but finally, the frightened youngling managed to fall back into recharge.

Fitful, dream-filled recharge.

* * *

“I agree with you, Officer Prowl. This does seem to prove that Officer Barricade was involved. I will alert the other Praxian enforcement offices immediately.”

Prowl nodded his thanks to the chief. “Sir, it has been deducted that Barricade has fled to Kaon. Do you wish me to send someone after him?”

The chief frowned, shaking his helm. “No. It is now out of our reach. Besides, how likely do you think Kaon will give him to us. We will keep watch for him. From Praxus.” At this, the mech gave a stern look to the two visitors in his office.

“But-“ Jazz began.

He was silenced when he was hit in the helm by a doorwing. The investigator sent a glare to his friend, who only kept his attention on the chief.

“Sir, Jazz means to say, Barricade has crossed the line and now more than just Praxus is paying for it. He has now been declared a wanted criminal, and not just by us. The data that Jazz found in Iacon gives further evidence to an inside job.

“One of the mechs in the prison in Protihex was involved. Jazz’s findings suggest that he had been planted in the facility to assist Barricade in the jailbreak.”

“Yes, you told me about Blackout already,” the chief replied coolly. “He was previously in the centre, yes. Now he, among many others are no longer there. But they are not in Praxus either. If they make their way back to our city-state, then we will take action. As it is, if what you two think is true, we have no good reason to pursue them out of our jurisdiction. If Barricade and this Blackout are a part of the gladiator’s supporters, then Praxus has already made its decision on the subject. In addition, anything related to it.”

“But, Sir,” protested Jazz, sitting forwards in his chair. “There could be lives on the line here. We got a lead. It ain’t great, but it’s somethin’.”

The chief turned his attention to Jazz. “If you wish to involve yourself further in this, Investigator, then do so. Your help has been appreciated in the past, as is this orn. However, if you make that choice, make it from elsewhere. Maybe Polyhex has decided to concern itself with the revolutionary speeches of a gladiator, but Praxus has not.”

Jazz and the chief enforcer stared each other down for several kliks.

“Fine,” the investigator finally said.

“Do you not think that Megatronus and his followers could pose a threat?” inquired Prowl.

“What I think does not matter in this situation,” sniffed the chief. “The Praxian Council has decided. It is my job to make sure that decision is followed. Megatronus is a gladiator. They call him a revolutionary, but that is giving him too much credit. Praxus will not stoop so low as to concern itself with or add to the trouble he has caused.

“Officer Prowl. Unless you have reason to that falls under what I have told you, I do not want to hear anymore about this.”

He paused, giving Jazz a look out of the corner of his optics. “Your friend can do what he wants. He will anyways I am sure. It must be done outside Praxus. Are we clear here?”

“Yes, Sir,” Prowl said stiffly. He rose from his seat and left.

Jazz followed and as soon as they were out of hearing, began talking.

“Ah don’t agree wit’ him. How can ya stand ta listen ta him, Prowl?”

The enforcer sighed. “You do not have to do either, Jazz.”

“Ah know. An’ Ah ain’t gonna. Ya know what dat many criminals can do? An’ if they are on Megatronus’ side? Dat might just be a disaster waitin’ ta happen.”

“I agree, Jazz.” Prowl opened his office door, letting his friend enter first. “But I do not know what we can do about it.”

“We? You basically got told ta stay out o’ it or yer fired.” Jazz flopped in his usual chair. “Me? Yer boss ain’t my boss.”

“He realizes that,” Prowl remarked dryly. “He also knows you likely will not listen to him, doing what you want.”

“Dat is what he said. Should know me ‘nough by now ta know threatenin’ ain’t gonna work either.”

“So, what are you going to do? You said that your friend has actually gone to speak with Megatronus?”

Jazz rubbed his forehelm. “Yeah. He was tellin’ me bout it again last offcycle. Orion is actually excited bout some o’ it. Doesn’t agree wit’ all Megatronus’ ideas though.”

“I see.” Prowl frowned. “You say he has good judgment?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t my idea ta go ta Kaon. But it seems the gladiator has got quite the followin’. More than we or even Orion knew. Orion believes there might still be more than he’s been told.”

“Including Barricade.”

“Orion said ma description matched the Barricade he met.” Jazz shrugged. “Ah don’t know dat we can just go there an’ nab him though.”

“No, that would not be wise,” Prowl replied. He sat quietly for a few kliks, thinking. Finally, he spoke again.

“I believe we may just have to wait and see what their next move is. There really is not much we can do as of now. It is out of our reach.”

Jazz scoffed. “Ya sound like yer boss.” He paused, tilting his helm. “But Ah do agree. Kaon’s a long way from here an’ enforcement pro’bly won’t like ya tryin’ ta take one o’ theirs. But if Barricade moves- “

“We will act,” finished Prowl.

* * *

Steeldust stood in front of his friends.

This was it. The last orn of school for the term.

They were in the process of saying goodbye.

Bluestreak was holding up surprisingly well so far. He was sad, but he realized that Steeldust would keep his promise to visit.

“Steel,” Smokescreen began, looking at his friend. “Visit often, okay?”

The speedster nodded. “I promise.”

The group looked up as Drag Strip and Wildrider approached, interrupting them.

“So. You’re leaving?” Wildrider asked, keeping a bit of distance between himself and Steeldust.

“Yeah. You better be nice to mecha, Wildrider,” said Steeldust sternly. He sent a warning look at the troublemaker.

Wildrider stuck his glossa out, but forced himself to stand his ground.

Drag Strip walked up to the other speedster, staring him down for a few kliks. Steeldust returned the stare.

“One last race, Drag Strip?”

With a nod, the orange speedster quietly walked towards the track. Steeldust was right behind him.

The rest of the present younglings followed sadly.

Readying themselves at the starting line, the two speedsters glanced towards the small crowd.

Smokescreen looked down at Swerve. “Want to do the honours?”

The red and white stepped forward and climbed onto a nearby bench. “Racers! Start your engines!”

The speedsters placed one pede behind the other, bracing themselves.

“Get set!” Swerve yelled.

Drag Strip and Steeldust exchanged a glance.

“GO!”

And they were off.

The crowd was silent until Bluestreak yelled, “Go Steeldust! Go Dragstrip!”

Then, the rest joined in. Cheering for the young racer-wannabes for the last time of the school term.

Finishing fairly close together, with Steeldust in the lead, the speedsters paused at the finish line before joining their friends.

“You know, Steeldust,” Drag Strip said quietly, kicking the ground with a pede. “I might just actually miss you. A little.”

Steeldust nodded. “I might miss you a little too, Drag Strip.”

Extending a hand towards the orange and purple speedster, he continued. “You know, if you were nicer, we might’ve been friends.”

Smirking, Drag Strip took his hand and shook it. “If you’d been a little less good, we would’ve been.”

Glancing towards the rest for a klik, Steel returned his attention to Drag Strip. “I think we sort of are. A strange, rivalry, sort of friendship.”

Drag Strip nodded his helm, then shrugged. “Something like that.”

Sending him a small smile, Steeldust walked away. Once he met the others, he, Smokescreen, Swerve, and Bluestreak headed towards the front of the school.

Wildrider joined Drag Strip on the track and they watched the four leave.

“I’m glad he won’t be coming back,” said Wildrider, crossing his servos. “That traitor Swerve too.”

Drag Strip only grunted his response and the two began heading home.

At the front of the school, Jazz, Silver, and Prowl were waiting. They watched as the four younglings came towards them.

Swerve’s creators were waiting for him, so he went first. Sadly, saying goodbye to his friends that were still there, he trudged away.

Smokescreen and Bluestreak’s creators hadn’t arrived yet. Steeldust glanced over at Jazz pleadingly.

The investigator nodded his helm. He would let Steeldust wait until his friends had to leave.

The trio moved over to the play set and sat together.

“Poor younglings,” murmured Silver as she watched them. “It’s going be hard on them.”

Jazz sighed. “It’s already been hard on ‘em.”

“They will be alright, Jazz,” Prowl said. “It’s not forever.”

“Ah know.”

Smokescreen glanced up when his carrier arrived.

“I gotta go now,” he said, rising to his pedes.

Steeldust rose with him, looking up at him. “Goodbye, Smokescreen. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, Steel,” Smokescreen replied. He tried to smile, extending a hand towards the speedster. “See you later.”

Dismissing the hand, Steeldust threw his servos around Smokescreen. “See you later.”

They separated and the older youngling walked slowly away.

Smokescreen lifted his hand in a wave. “See you around, Bluestreak.”

“Bye, Smokey,” said the younger Praxian.

The two remaining younglings watched as Smokescreen ran to his carrier and then disappeared down the street.

Bluestreak’s sire came shortly after.

Sniffling, Blue got up and stepped over to his best friend. “I don’t want to say goodbye,” he whispered.

A tear rolled down Steeldust’s faceplate. “Me neither,” he whispered back.

“Promise you’ll come back?” asked Bluestreak, wiping his faceplate.

Steeldust nodded, his expression firm. “I promise. I’ll never leave you for good Bluestreak. You’re my best friend, you always will be. And I’ll never forget you. Ever. We’re brothers now, remember?”

Bluestreak twitched his doorwings. “I remember. I’ll never forget you either, Steeldust!”

The four adult mecha watched as the younglings hugged, then trudged towards them.

“This is sparkbreaking,” Silver said, wiping her optics.

Prowl put a hand on her shoulderplate, pulling her close. “I know.” He glanced over at Jazz. “It is for the best. For now. We all agreed.”

Jazz nodded. “Yeah.”

“Yes, we did,” added Silver. “And now we have to be strong for them.”

Steeldust stood on the curb with his doorwings hanging, watching Bluestreak and his sire drive away. A single tear dripped onto the ground.

Turning to face the three adult mecha waiting for him, he said quietly, “I’m ready to go now.”

Silver swiftly walked over to the youngling and knelt down in front of him. Reaching out a hand, she cupped the side of his face.

“Oh, Steeldust. I will miss you, sweetspark,” she said, smiling sadly. “But don’t worry, we will see each other again.”

Nodding, Steeldust gave her a quick hug. Whispering into her audio, he said, “You’re my favourite teacher, Silver.”

With a smile, Silver drew back. “I’m glad I had you in my class, Steeldust. Farewell.”

Next, Steeldust strode over to Prowl and stood in front of him, gazing up at him. Prowl looked down at him sadly.

“Don’t forget us,” whispered Steeldust. Then louder, he said, “I’ll miss you too, Prowl. Thank you for everything.”

Prowl crouched to be on Steeldust’s level. “I will also miss you Steeldust. Thank you for what you have done in our lives. I’m glad to have met and gotten to know you.”

Steeldust flew into the enforcer’s servos. Prowl held him tight. He realized he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to either this little youngling or his guardian.

Releasing Steeldust, Prowl straightened. He turned to Jazz, who looked absolutely torn.

“Until we meet again, Jazz,” said Prowl, dipping his helm.

“See ya around, Prowler,” Jazz replied quietly. “Bye Silver.”

“Goodbye, Jazz,” Silver said, waving as he headed to the street.

The three adult mecha had previously said their goodbyes, but it was still hard. It would be strange not seeing each other for awhile.

Steeldust followed Jazz, hopping into his alt mode. He waved once more to Prowl and Silver.

The teacher and enforcer stood on the sidewalk, watching as they drove away.

“I will miss them,” said Silver, putting her servo around Prowl.

“As will I,” Prowl replied. Placing a servo around her shoulders, he guided her away. “They will be back.”

* * *

Opening the door, Steeldust took his first look at his new home.

The apartment was smaller than their house in Praxus, but it was enough room for the two of them. Their belongings and furniture were already here, having slowly been moved in the past decacycle.

They just had to figure out where some of it went still.

“What do ya think?” Jazz asked from behind the youngling.

Wandering further into the apartment, Steeldust twitched his doorwings. It was a new place, just like Altihex was. It was a new place to explore, a new adventure.

“I think I’ll like it.”

Jazz entered and closed the door behind himself. “Good. I’m glad.”

They stood in the middle of the room, looking at the piles of boxes surrounding them.

“What should we unpack first?” the investigator asked.

Steeldust looked up at him and shrugged, optics wide. “I have no idea.”

“Me neither.” Jazz smirked. “We could just start next orn...”

“Jazz-“ Steeldust smiled.

The first smile all orn.

Jazz smiled back. They were going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit Song: When Can I See You Again - Owl City


	22. Altihex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exploring, learning new things, and reuniting.

In the decacycles following, Steeldust did a lot of exploring. Altihex was quite different than Praxus. And different from what he remembered of Polyhex.

Even the mecha were different.

In Steeldust’s opinion, a lot of Praxians were a bit snobby. And the mecha he remembered from Polyhex were fairly friendly. But here, well, he wasn’t quite sure of his opinion of the mecha yet.

The youngling had noticed that this was a lower caste section of Altihex, so maybe that was why some mecha just seemed to be a little untrusting.

Not that he blamed them.

Something almost everyone knew, or those that cared to know.

The lower your caste was, the lower the quality of life was. And it was harder, sometimes even impossible, to get a good job.

Often enough, mecha would end up on the streets. Homeless.

Other mecha would sometimes try to take advantage of their predicament and steal what little the poor mecha had.

So why wouldn’t they not trust anyone?

Steeldust was left by himself while Jazz was working, so he’d often leave their apartment and explore. Jazz had by now taught him quite about how to protect himself and felt confident that Steeldust would be fine on his own.

_“Just remember,”_ the investigator had said. _“If yer in over yer helm, just run. Ah doubt anyone could catch ya an’ the surprise o’ yer speed would give ya a head start anyways.”_

Steeldust smirked as he remembered the conversation. Running fast was never a problem for him. He always had dominated any game that involved a chase.

If someone decided to give him trouble, it wouldn’t be any different. It’d only be another game that Steeldust would win.

The more challenging thing for the navy and black speedster would be to find a friend.

He had tried to talk to a few younglings here and there, but they mostly had either been afraid of him or told him to get lost. The latter kind already had their own friends and didn’t want to accept a stranger. The former group had likely inherited their creators’ fear of other mecha.

Or at least Steeldust hoped that was the case. He didn’t think he was scary. No one had ever seemed afraid of him before. Maybe a little intimidated when he was angry, but not scared enough to run away.

Well, except for Wildrider. But Steeldust didn’t think the crazy youngling counted.

Neither did the various cybercats and the petrorabbit he’d tried to befriend on various occasions.

The young speedster shrugged. He would just have to keep trying. He hadn’t been here that long yet. Not time to give up. Surely, he could win someone’s trust.

And if not, he could skip on over to the sector where he’d be going to school.

The youngling frowned, raising an optic ridge. That was a little farther than Jazz said he could wander.

Steeldust would have to wait and see what his guardian thought of that idea.

Until he could ask, he would just keep wandering where he was told he could.

_“I-wonder-what-it’s-like-to-live-like-a-wanderer,”_ Steeldust thought to himself. _“I’ve-heard-about-mecha-that-do-that-all-the-time. I-think-they’re-called-nomads. They-never-settle-down-anywhere. I-bet-they-see-lots-of-cool-stuff. Maybe-to-the-lower-layers-of-Cybertron-even!”_

They probably got to travel around the planet with their best friends too.

_“I-miss-Blue-and-Smokey-already._

_“I-bet-the-loners-that-wander-are-lonely-a-lot. I-don’t-think-I’d-like-being-a-wanderer. Not-for-a-long-time-anyways.”_

Steeldust suddenly stopped. He glanced around him, frowning. He hadn’t been this far in this direction yet. He was sure of that.

Quite unsure of everything else about it, however.

The change was almost like someone drew a line, making a strange border through the city.

The difference was almost like oncycle and offcycle.

_“This-must-be-where-the-next-sector-meets-this-one,”_ Steel thought, studying the area that began several yards in front of him _. “I’ve-never-seen-anything- Or-anywhere-like-this.”_

And it changed so-

Immediately.

The buildings across the invisible line were much more worn down and deteriorated. So was the street itself. Steeldust didn’t have an alt mode yet but figured that it would be hard to drive on the street.

What was even more strange, was how empty it looked.

Over here, in the sector that Steel lived in, there would be mecha. Sitting out on the sidewalk in front of their house or shop, a few using the road, or just casually walking around like he was. A couple mecha, likely really poor, perhaps homeless, begged from anyone passing by.

Over there, it was completely empty. Completely silent.

It was as if everything and everyone just stopped. Right there at the invisible line.

_“Maybe it’s some kind of forcefield-shield-thing. Maybe there’s something different on the other side that someone is hiding,”_ thought Steeldust, inching closer. He cautiously stepped over to where the two sectors met, waiting for someone to jump out and tell him to go stick his olfactory sensors elsewhere.

No one did. No one appeared.

Stopping again just in front of the line, Steeldust studied it carefully. Up close, the line wasn’t as defined as it had looked farther away. But it was still there. The street did suddenly change.

Throwing a look over his shoulder, Steeldust considered what he should do. _“I could go ask some mecha if they know what’s over there. Maybe they wouldn’t know though. Maybe I should just wait and ask Jazz. But I’m allowed to go farther than this, I don’t think he’d mind about that...”_

Turning back, Steeldust took one more look at the line. Then, he crossed it.

Tensing up, he paused, waiting for something to happen.

Nothing did.

He looked around again. Nothing had changed. It was still dark, gloomy, and a bit on the creepy side.

It looked like something out of those horror holovids that Smokescreen would watch when his creators weren’t home.

“I guess there isn’t a forcefield thing,” mumbled Steeldust. He tentatively kept moving, keeping an extra careful watch for anything dangerous.

_“Maybe-Prowl-was-right. Maybe-we-do-watch-too-much-on-the-holoprojector.”_

After wandering a ways down the street and seeing nothing different, Steeldust decided that he would investigate a building.

“They are abandoned,” he said quietly, venturing up to the door of what had maybe been a hotel at some point. “I don’t think anyone would care if I did.”

Finding the door was unlocked, Steeldust snuck inside, leaving the door open a crack behind him. He paused a few astrokliks, letting his offcycle vision get used to the dark interior.

It did look like an old hotel. The room Steeldust was in was large and spacious, with a huge desk off to the left. A staircase was up ahead a little bit on the right. Garbage littered the floor here and there, gathering along the desk and in the corners of the room.

_”I-wonder-how-long-it’s-been-since-anyone-was-here-last,”_ wondered Steeldust. The youngling made his way carefully and silently down the hall.

He didn’t find much. Just a bunch of empty rooms. Empty except for more garbage and lots of dust.

After exploring the whole ground floor, Steeldust moved to the next one. He was starting to get that eerie feeling again, but curiosity won, and he kept going.

_“Huh-I-wonder-why-the-stairs-weren’t-very-creaky,”_ he thought. _“Maybe-I-just-missed-the-spots-that-are-creaky. Or-I-went-too-fast-and-they-didn’t-have-time-to-make-any-noise. Is-that-a-thing-you-can-do?”_

Reaching the first door in the hallway, Steeldust tried to open it.

It wouldn’t open.

Tilting his helm, he looked the door over, twitching his doorwings as he did.

These were an old style; they actually didn’t have a keypad and buttons beside it. They had a weird looking knob that you had to turn. And then the door opened inwards instead of sliding into the wall.

The whole building had these kinds of doors. Even the entrance one was like this. But none of them had been locked or stuck so far.

This building, maybe the whole sector, must be really old.

Placing one shoulder against the door, Steeldust pushed against it as he turned the doorknob.

Nothing budged.

_“It-must-be-locked-for-some-reason.”_

Thinking quickly, the youngling looked about him. Spying a thin piece of wire among the pile of stuff along the opposite wall, he ran over and snatched it up. Returning to the door, he slid the wire into the hole beneath the doorknob.

No clicking sounds.

Wiggling the wire around, Steeldust listened. He’d never tried to pick one of these kinds of locks before but figured it should be easier than the normal kind.

He’d probably get in less trouble for it too.

After a few kliks, the locking mechanisms gave in. With a grin, Steeldust withdrew his piece of wire, sticking it into a chink in his servo plating in case he needed it again. He turned the doorknob and opened the door.

His smile dropped and optics widened at what he saw inside.

Several pairs of optics stared at him.

Steeldust was too shocked to do anything but stare back.

There were five adult mecha in the room, three mechs and two femmes, all huddled in a circle on the floor. Between them, was a large container of some sort with fire in it.

The mecha had almost no paint left on them and looked malnourished. One looked sick. Really sick. Steeldust wasn’t a medic, but he somehow knew she probably wouldn’t last much longer.

The group stared at the youngling in the doorway, surprised at his sudden appearance.

“Uh, hello?” Steeldust said nervously, finally finding his words. “I’m-sorry-I-I-didn’t-know-anyone-was-in-here.”

“Did you forget to lock the door when you came in?” one of the mecha hissed lowly, glaring at the one beside him.

“I’m sure I locked it,” the accused mech hissed back.

“Then how did he get in here?” grumbled one of the femmes, eyeing the youngling warily.

The second mech shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m sure I locked it.”

“Why didn’t we hear him coming?”

“How the pit am I supposed to know?”

Steeldust’s helm turned this way and that as the mecha began to argue. Only the sick one stayed quiet, just watching the young stranger.

“He’s probably going to go and tell someone we’re here. Then, we’ll have to find somewhere else!”

“Him? He’s just a youngling! Look at him, he doesn’t know what to do. He’s just standing there.”

“Yeah, I see him. See how he actually has all his paint? He’s not from around here.”

“Which means he’s higher caste than us. You know what that means. So are his creators. He might not tell on us, but they will.”

“Maybe we can get him to stay quiet.”

“Pfft. Younglings blab everything to everyone. We shouldn’t let him leave.”

“This one doesn’t seem that talkative. And how would we keep him here? What would we do with him?”

“Did you hear him before? I couldn’t understand a word he said. Was that some different language he was speaking?”

The first mech swatted the third mech in the helm. “No, idiot. He was just talking really fast.”

“Did you understand him?” retaliated the mech, rubbing his helm.

“He said- Uh- Umm-“ the first one muttered, glancing away.

The sickly mecha looked away from the youngling, facing her companions.

“I understood him. He apologized. He didn’t know we were here,” she said weakly.

“Yeah, that’s what he said,” the first mech nodded.

The group turned their attention back to the young intruder.

Who was now right beside their circle.

Startled, they all jumped.

“What was that for? Why are you sneaking up on us, youngling?”

“Why are you even here?”

Steeldust looked at them in turn, then at the one who had asked the last question. “I- I was exploring and- I’m sorry if I scared you. Who- Who are you?”

“None of your business!” one of the mechs hissed.

“Calm down, I don’t think he means us any harm,” said the healthier of the two femmes, shooting the mech a look.

Steeldust shook his helm rapidly. “No, I don’t. I promise.”

“So, you’re not here to steal from us?” asked the first mech, looking at him suspiciously.

Steeldust shook his helm again.

“Good. Now go away. Before I decide to offline you for snooping around.”

“Okay.”

Steeldust bolted, leaving in a blur of navy and black.

The mecha stared at the spot where he’d stood only an astroklik ago, listening to the clattering sound echoing throughout the building as the youngling ran down the stairs. The front door closed with a loud slam as the young intruder vacated the building.

“What- What was that?” asked one of the femmes.

“He just vanished! I think he was a ghost!”

“A noisy ghost if he was.”

Steeldust ran all the way home, not stopping until he was back in the apartment. He locked the door behind himself and leaned against it.

He didn’t know who those mecha were, but he didn’t think he’d ever go back there again.

It wasn’t necessarily the mecha that had freaked him out. Although the one mech, likely their leader, had threatened to offline him.

It was more the whole experience.

Steel knew that some mecha were really bad off. He’d heard it before. The mecha in his sector weren’t doing great or anything. But he’d never met any like the five in the abandoned hotel or seen anything like them for himself.

Never seen someone that close to offlinement before either.

Except for his creators.

Sliding down to sit on the floor, Steeldust wondered if there were more like them.

There had to be.

Why was life so unfair?

Steeldust hadn’t realized how different the castes were. He wondered what a high caste mecha looked like. Or how they lived.

How many more new things would he learn in Altihex?

* * *

“Bluestreak! There’s someone here to see you!”

The grey and red youngling flicked his doorwings. _“Must be Smokescreen,”_ he thought.

“I’m coming, Carrier!” he yelled.

Bounding down the stairs, Bluestreak ran through the house until he got to the front door. His carrier was waiting for him, smile wide.

“He’s outside waiting for you, Blue’,” she said, gesturing to the door. “Go ahead, he’s already spoken to me.”

“Okay.”

_“Smokescreen usually comes right in. I wonder why he’s waiting outside,”_ Bluestreak wondered. _“Maybe it’s not Smokescreen. Carrier would have said it was.”_

Confused, he walked over and opened the door.

“Hey Blue’.”

Bluestreak’s faceplate lit up as he launched himself off of the front step, tackling his visitor.

“Steeldust! You’re back!”

“I’m back,” laughed Steeldust, struggling to get out of the tight hug his best friend was giving him. “Blue’, I’m not gonna disappear, you can let go! Ow, you’re squeezing me!”

Bluestreak let go and stepped back. “Sorry, Steeldust! Why are you here? I mean, it’s not that I don’t want you here. I’m really glad to see you!”

Steeldust crossed his servos and smirked down at him. “It’s your ninth creation orn in a couple orns. I wasn’t gonna stay in Altihex for that, silly.”

Launching himself at the speedster again, Bluestreak practically yelled, “So you’re staying in Praxus for a few orns?”

“Yeah. Jazz and I are staying at Prowl’s house-“

Bluestreak let go of his friend again and ran inside. “Carrier! Steeldust is here and he’s staying for a few orns.”

“I know, Sweetspark. He told me already,” the femme said from the kitchen. She smiled, shaking her helm as Bluestreak bolted back outside.

Steeldust twitched his doorwings and dodged the oncoming Praxian. “Wow, Blue’. How many energon sweets did you eat this orn? You’re more hyper than me.”

“I’m glad you’re here!” Bluestreak said, practically bouncing in place. “It’s been decacycles and decacycles since you left.”

He then stopped, thinking of something.

Steeldust tilted his helm, knowing the look on his friend’s faceplate. “Blue’?”

“We have to go tell Smokescreen!”

And with that, Bluestreak was off, running down the street.

Watching him for a few astrokliks, the small speedster tilted his helm, optic ridges furrowed.

“Hey Bluestreak! Smokescreen lives in the other direction!”

“Oh! Right! I forgot!” came the reply yelled back.

Steel shook his helm and grinned. He’d missed Blue’.

Internally, he wondered if Smokescreen would be this excited. If he was, he probably would show it differently.

Bluestreak came bounding back and the two hurried off. This time, in the right direction.

The whole way, Bluestreak talked about all that had happened while Steeldust had been gone. The speedster was quite content to let him do the talking. He had missed Praxus and didn’t really have any interesting things to tell Bluestreak about Altihex.

At least, not ones he felt that Blue would like to know. Or that he himself wanted to tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No credit song for this chapter due to not being able to think of a good one.. :P  
> Thanks for reading!


	23. Everything Fell Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Visits with mecha, surprising and shocking events. Disappointments and let-downs. Big decisions and goodbyes.

Jazz reached up and gently pulled his young charge fully inside the transport. Steeldust didn’t seem to notice as he was seated back down beside Jazz.

The investigator chuckled as he watched the nine-vorn-old immediately wiggle closer to the window.

Steeldust was fascinated by the scenery they passed, watching it fly by with wide optics.

Several times already, Jazz had had to pull the youngling back when he’d gotten too absorbed in looking outside. He’d stuck not only his helm, but almost his whole torso out the window trying to get a better look at something.

Jazz was seriously considering tying one of Steeldust’s pedes to the seat so he wouldn’t fall out of the transport. Or closing the window.

They’d only gotten on the transport a breem ago.

Still too much travel time to trust the curious speedster to sit still. Inside. On the seat.

_“Annnnd cue da question....”_ Jazz thought to himself with a smirk.

“Hey, Jazz. Are we almost there yet?” Steeldust inquired, glancing over his shoulder. He was now kneeling in his seat facing the window.

_“And there it is.”_ Jazz shook his helm. “No, Steel. Not yet. Don’t worry, we’ll be in Iacon soon enough.”

“Okay.”

Attention was fully tuned back to what was out the window.

Jazz kept one optic on Steeldust and one on the rest of the mecha in the cab.

It was handy wearing a visor at times, you could watch mecha without their knowledge.

And you never knew when certain mecha could be wandering around where they weren’t supposed to.

The investigator was fairly certain Barricade was still located in Kaon, but the enforcer had friends. And unless Megatronus was in the business of searching for younglings, then he had been working for at least one other mech.

Neither Prowl or Jazz had found out anything more about the mech that Barricade had spoken to that orn by the school.

And Barricade hadn’t been seen in Praxus for jours now.

Then, neither had Jazz and Steeldust.

They’d visited a couple times, but that was it. And they came and left in the offcycle under the cover of darkness.

Now, it was time to visit someone else.

Jazz wondered how the meeting, unscheduled as it was, would go.

He glanced at Steeldust. The nine-vorn-old was excited, but nervous.

And rightly so. He was going to see someone he hadn’t seen in almost two vorns.

* * *

Steeldust marched up the steps of the boarding school, shoulders and doorwings thrown back. At the doors, he hesitated, posture slumping a fraction.

This was it.

He glanced back at Jazz.

The black and white mech stood on the sidewalk. He gave Steeldust a smile and nodded. “You go get him, Steel. You can do it.”

Steeldust nodded back, determination crossing his faceplate. _“I can do this. I wanted to do this alone. I have to,”_ he thought. Shoving his nervousness down, he walked inside.

A small sense of familiarity greeted him once he’d stepped in. Steeldust had been here a couple times in the past, but it felt like a long time ago.

Scanning the room, he spied a small name plaque on the wall beside the first door on the right.

_“The headmaster should know where Blurr is,”_ Steeldust thought as he walked swiftly to the door.

Lifting a hand, he knocked lightly, then waited for a response. His doorwings twitched slightly as he fidgeted in place.

“Come in,” called a voice.

Tentatively, Steeldust opened the door and poked his helm in. There were two sections, to the room. The one out front was a waiting area with chairs. The back section was the actual office.

A mech was sitting behind a big desk near the back of the office. He glanced up when he heard the door opening. Spying the youngling, whom he did not recognize, the mech’s expression become annoyed. “Can I help you?”

Steeldust fully entered the room and nervously moved to stand in front of the desk.

“Are you lost?” asked the headmaster, raising an optic ridge. “I’m quite sure I have not seen you here before. You look too young to attend here.”

“No, Sir.” Steeldust resisted the urge to roll his optics at the snobbish tone being used. He shook his helm instead. “I’m here to visit someone.”

“I see,” sniffed the mech, shuffling through some things on his desk. “And who is it that you wish to see?”

“Blurr. He’s a student here. He’s sixteen-vorns-old and-“

“Yes, yes. I know him, you do not need to describe him for me. Does he know you were coming?”

“No, Sir.”

The headmaster rose an optic ridge again. “Well, then. I suppose you want _me_ to tell him then?”

Steeldust tilted his helm. “No, Sir. If you could tell me where his room is, I can find him myself.”

“Normally I would send for someone to go with you, but we are terribly busy. Here’s his dorm number, it is on the third floor.” The mech wrote down the information and handed it to Steeldust. “I believe he is here. If not, I cannot help you. If he is at the racetrack I do not know when he will return.”

“Thank you!” Steeldust snatched the extended room number and zipped out of the room, leaving a rather shocked mech behind.

“Well, then. He is- Very fast.”

* * *

As Jazz traveled towards the Hall of Records, he wondered how Steeldust’s visit with his brother would go.

The youngling had wanted to go by himself, saying it was something he needed to do.

Jazz agreed. Blurr and Steeldust needed to talk, without him there.

Hopefully, the two brothers would make amends.

And hopefully, he and Orion could find some things. Not to mention talk about the several bombing incidents that had happened over the last few orns.

The mecha responsible claimed they were from the resistance group called the Decepticons.

Megatronus’ followers.

Orion was likely not impressed with his friend if he knew for sure that it was Megatronus behind the attacks.

_“He’s said before dat him an’ Megatronus have different ideas o’ how ta carry out their plans.”_

The investigator wondered, as did many others, what this movement would come to.

Jazz had a bad feeling about it if he was honest.

* * *

Blurr was distracted from his homework by a knock at the door.

_“Huh? I-wonder-who-that-is. Any-friends-would-just-come-in. A-teacher-would-comm-me. So-would-anyone-from-the-racetrack,”_ he thought rapidly, rising from his chair.

Striding over to the door, he opened it. When he saw the mecha standing on the other side, his optics widened, mirroring the expression on the other mecha’s faceplate.

“Blurr?” whispered the unexpected visitor.

Blurr swallowed hard. He looked the smaller version of himself up and down.

He was a lot taller than he had been the last time Blurr had seen him, but still was much shorter than him. He looked older too.

_“Well, it-has-been-two-vorns,”_ Blurr reminded himself. _“I-guess-I-probably-look-different-too.”_

“Steeldust?”

The younger brother flew at the older one, knocking him over despite the height and weight difference.

Something he’d always somehow been able to do, even when Blurr thought he was ready for it.

“Blurr!” Steeldust cried, hugging his brother tight. “I’ve-missed-you-so-much!”

Blurr struggled to his pedes, shoving the clinging nine-vorn-old off of him. “Let-go! You’re-squeezing-me!”

Steeldust stepped back and looked up at Blurr. “Didn’t-you-get-my-letters? I-sent-a-bunch.”

The sixteen-vorn-old glanced at his desk out of the corner of his optic. He had gotten Steeldust’s letters, they were all in one of the desk drawers, shoved deep under everything else.

“Uhh, no. No-I-didn’t,” Blurr said.

“Oh.” Steeldust quirked an optic ridge and tilted his helm. Flicking his doorwings, he shrugged. “That’s-weird. At-least-I-found-you. Now-we-can-be-together-again-and-“

Blurr shook his helm rapidly, placing a hand on Steeldust’s shoulderplate. “No-that’s-not-a-good-idea-Steeldust.”

Steeldust looked up at him, the happy expression on his faceplate fading. “Why- Why not? We’re-brothers. We-should-be-together-Blurr.”

“Because-Steeldust. We-both-have-our-own-lives-now. I’m-here-in-Iacon, you’re-in-Praxus. I-can’t-come-there-and-you-can’t-stay-here.”

“But- We-could-visit.” Steeldust looked up at his brother hopefully. “And-I’m-in-Altihex-now. It’s-closer.”

Blurr sadly shook his helm again. “No Steeldust. We can’t. You should go.”

“But-“

Steeldust was gently turned around and pushed towards the door.

“I’m-sorry-Steeldust,” Blurr said quietly. He took one more look at his brother’s shocked and broken expression. Swiftly sliding the door shut, he locked it. Leaning against it, the speedster listened.

Steeldust stayed in the hallway for several kliks. He stared at the door, not believing what had just happened. Not believing what he’d just heard.

Blurr must be joking. He was going to open the door any klik and say he was kidding.

Right?

So Steeldust stood and waited, running their conversation through his helm.

Blurr stayed by the door, listening. He didn’t want to send his brother away.

But what could he do? There was no way they could start again. Steeldust seemed to know exactly what he’d done from what he’d said in his letters. He didn’t seem to be angry anymore, but Blurr couldn’t face him.

Finally, Steeldust, standing in the empty hallway, realized something.

Blurr had meant it.

_“He- He-doesn’t-want-me-around. He-sent-me-away. Blurr-doesn’t-want-me,”_ Steeldust thought, optics widening in horror.

He stumbled away from his brother’s dorm room, moving quickly down the hall.

_“What-did-I-do-that-he-doesn’t-want-me?”_

Steeldust made his way out of the school and walked numbly down the street. He was supposed to meet Jazz at the Hall of Records, but his processor was occupied and he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going.

He wasn’t sure how long he went like that. All of a sudden, he was jerked from his thoughts. By what, Steeldust wasn’t sure.

He looked around warily, realizing he had no idea where he was.

Before, he’d been in a nice section of the sector. Now, Steeldust wasn’t so sure. It was kind of shadowy, despite it still being the oncycle, and not as well kept up.

_“Why-do-I-keep-finding-all-the-creepy-places?”_

There was a noise from his left.

Steeldust whipped around to face the direction it had come from, servos raised and ready. His quick optics scanned the shadows.

“Who’s there?” he demanded, trying to make his voice sound like he wasn’t afraid.

A retrorat scurried out from a hole, the movement catching Steeldust’s optic. He moved to face it, temporarily forgetting about the previous noise he’d heard.

“Oh, hello,” Steeldust said with a grimace, lowering his servos.

The small creature sat on its haunches, staring at the youngling with beady optics. Steeldust stared back, curiosity winning over initial disgust.

Suddenly, the retrorat squeaked and ran back into it’s hole.

“Huh?” Steeldust quirked an optic ridge, tilting his helm in confusion. “Did I scare it?”

“It was probably afraid of me.”

Steeldust froze _. “That-voice-came-from-right-behind-me. And-it’s-not-anyone-I-know. It-might-be-one-of-Barricade’s-friends.”_

Astrokliks after the stranger spoke, Steeldust was moving again. He whirled, throwing a swift jab towards the stranger’s midsection, then a kick to the side of his knee joint.

The mech stumbled, falling down on one knee, a look of shock on his faceplate.

Steeldust backed away, looking for more mecha. He spotted a few off to the side, watching him. One stepped forwards, but the first mech, the one Steeldust had attacked, waved him back.

“It’s alright, youngling. I don’t want to hurt you,” the mech said, getting back to his pedes. He leaned down and rubbed his knee joint. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

Steeldust stared up at him warily, still on guard. The mech seemed friendly.

“I was just coming to see if you were lost,” the mech continued. He spread his servos. “You looked like you might be.”

With another glance at the group of mecha to the side, Steeldust relaxed slightly. “I am lost actually. I’m sorry I attacked you, Sir.”

The mech laughed, extending a hand. “No harm done, youngling. Though, you’re a good fighter for your age. My name’s Gasket, what’s yours.”

Cautiously taking the extended hand, Steeldust shook it. “I’m Steeldust.”

“Well, Steeldust, I can try and help you find your way.” Gasket smiled, down at the youngling. He then turned, waving the rest over. “You can come over now, he knows we won’t hurt him.”

The group of mecha made their way to join Gasket. Steeldust assumed that he must be their leader.

He noted that they were all lower class mecha, judging by the dull and scratched paint.

_“They-must-be-on-the-streets,”_ Steeldust thought.

He felt bad about what he’d done to Gasket.

“Mecha, this here’s Steeldust,” Gasket said, gesturing to the navy and black. “Steeldust, this is everyone.”

Some of the mecha said their greetings, others just watched Steeldust carefully.

One mech, the one that had stepped forwards to help Gasket before, seemed to be keeping a very close optic on him. “Gasket, how are we supposed to help him?”

“Well, Drift, we’ll start by asking him where he’s going,” the mech replied, turning his attention to Steeldust.

“I was going to the Hall of Records to meet my guardian, but I- I was distracted and got lost,” Steeldust said quietly, flicking his doorwings.

“The Hall of Records? Well, Steeldust, you’re a bit far from there,” replied Gasket. He began walking, gesturing for the rest to follow. “Must have been quite the distraction. Your guardian is probably pretty worried about you by now.”

Steeldust quickly caught up and fell in step with Gasket. “Where are we?”

“In the gutters basically,” snapped Drift from behind. “We’re the forgotten mecha that the higher castes have thrown away.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Steeldust murmured.

* * *

Jazz was not impressed.

The saddened Steeldust had told Jazz what had happened. The two had excused themselves for a few kliks, to talk in private.

Steeldust had finally made it to the Hall of Records, apparently getting lost on the way. He’d happened upon some mecha who had decided to help the youngling out.

However, the reason that Steeldust had gotten lost, was more or less because of Blurr.

The investigator didn’t think their was anything he could do to persuade the young racer otherwise in his decision.

Steeldust didn’t want him to bother trying, thinking it was pointless.

Jazz was concerned about that. Steeldust was affected by the visit, but it almost seemed like he was trying not to care.

That could be a harmful game to play with yourself.

The youngling had wandered off to explore while Jazz finished talking with Orion.

Orion, who had been introduced to Steeldust, wondered if something was wrong.

“Jazz, is something troubling Steeldust?”

The investigator sighed. “Yeah, he went ta talk ta someone an’ it didn’t go well.”

“Oh, that is unfortunate.” Orion frowned, furrowing his optic ridges. “Was it someone close, if I may ask?”

“Someone who _should_ be close ta him.”

Realizing it was a sensitive topic, the data clerk let it go.

“Megatronus is meeting me this offcycle,” Orion said lowly. “He’s coming to Iacon.”

Jazz rose an optic ridge above his visor. “Really? What for?”

Orion shook his helm. “I am uncertain to what he wants to talk about. He said he wishes to show me something as well.”

“Interestin’.”

“You find everything interesting, don’t you?”

“That’s my job.”

* * *

Steeldust followed Jazz, not really paying attention to where they were going.

Jazz had finished whatever it was he was doing with Orion and now they were on their way to somewhere else. To see another friend, Steeldust thought Jazz had said, but he wasn’t sure.

He’d been having a hard time listening and paying attention to things since he’d left Blurr’s school.

“Well, here we are,” said Jazz, halting suddenly.

Steeldust didn’t notice right away and ran into him.

“Oof!”

Turning around, Jazz looked down at the youngling. “Ya okay there, Zipper?”

Backing up a couple steps, Steeldust nodded his helm. “Yes. Sorry, Jazz.”

“Dat’s alright, Steel.” Jazz grinned, gesturing with a hand. “Come on.”

Steeldust followed Jazz into the house, noting that his guardian didn’t bother to knock before going in.

“Yo, Blaster? Ya home?” Jazz called, walking further into the house.

Staying by the door, Steeldust smiled as he looked around. He knew Blaster, but hadn’t actually been to his house before. From what the youngling could see from the door, he had a pretty nice place. And by the look of the decorations and the music coming from somewhere, he liked music.

But of course, Steeldust already knew that.

No wonder Jazz was friends with this mecha.

“Hey, Jazz!” Blaster said as he came down the short hallway.

As the two mechs began talking, Steeldust tilted his helm, watching and listening.

The taller mech looked over Jazz’s helm and spotted Steeldust.

“Hey, you brought Steeldust!”

Steeldust lifted his hand in a wave and walked over to join them. “Hey, Blaster.”

“It’s nice of you two to drop in for a visit,” the red and yellow said with a grin. “Come on and make yourselves at home!”

Jazz and Steeldust followed Blaster into his living room and seated themselves.

Blaster began chattering away again with Jazz, including Steeldust in the conversation also.

The youngling liked Blaster. He, unlike a lot of adult mecha, talked to him like he was one too. And he talked to Steeldust like a friend.

The three talked for a while, the two mechs exchanging stories. Suddenly, something clicked for Steeldust.

Blaster had seemed sort of familiar, like Steeldust knew him from somewhere before Jazz had introduced them. But he’d never been able to figure it out.

When he’d asked Blaster, the mech couldn’t think of anything either.

“Hey, Blaster? You’re a reporter right?”

Blaster looked over at the youngling and grinned. “Yep, I sure am. Why the question, little mech?”

“That’s where I’ve seen you before!”

“Hey, nice work, Steeldust. You figured out our puzzle. Say, you going to be an investigator like Jazz?”

Steeldust shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe. I want to be a racer.”

“A racer, huh? Maybe we’ll be seeing each other a lot more in the future,” joked Blaster.

Jazz laughed. “Ah think that’d be da most entertainin’ interview ever.”

Looking at Jazz with mock confusion, Blaster pouted. “You think my interviews aren’t entertaining already? I think you must be mixing me up with someone else, Jazz.”

“Naw, you just losing yer touch,” Jazz smirked.

Blaster waved him off. “Aw, whatever, mech. You just have a sad sense of humour.”

Steeldust snickered, then was suddenly shoved off his chair. He looked around to see why Jazz had pushed him off.

It wasn’t Jazz.

The investigator was trying his best not to laugh at Steeldust’s shocked expression when he turned around.

A large cybercat, stared down at him. It was yellow with a mane around his neckcables and helm. It sat where Steeldust had been, and after staring the youngling down for a few astrokliks, began licking a paw with his glossa.

“Steeljaw!” Blaster chastised from his chair. “That was rude! Not how you treat a guest!”

The cybercat paused from grooming himself to glance over at Blaster. “He was in my chair. And besides, it was fun.”

Steeldust’s optics narrowed. He’d met the cybercat before, and he still wasn’t sure about him.

He was still the biggest one he’d ever seen and the only one that could talk.

Plus, he seemed to act like he owned whatever place he was in.

“Hello, Steeldust,” the cybercat said, turning his attention to the youngling he’d knocked on the floor. His optics glinted as he stared at the youngling.

“Be nice,” warned Blaster. “Or I’ll put you outside.”

Sending the red and yellow mech a glare, the cybercat straightened. “How are you, Jazz? It’s been awhile since you’ve visited.”

Jazz, having recovered from his laughing fit, reached over and stroked the cybercat’s helm. “Ah’m good. Yer right, Steeljaw, it’s been too long.”

Steeldust, meanwhile, had gotten to his pedes and crept closer, watching the giant cybercat.

“I didn’t know it was your chair,” the youngling said.

“They’re all mine if I decide it,” replied Steeljaw proudly, eyeing the youngling.

_“I’m-not-sure-I-like-the-way-he’s-looking-at-me,”_ thought Steeldust. _“I-wonder-if-he’s-gonna-jump-on-me-again-“_

Steeljaw did indeed attempt to surprise the youngling again, still rather smug about the whole thing and wanting to see the youngling’s shocked faceplate again.

Unfortunately, Steeljaw didn’t succeed in his fun.

Steeldust moved out of the way as the cat leapt for him. He darted back up onto the chair, leaving a surprised Steeljaw to catch empty air instead.

Blaster chuckled, reaching down to pet the cybercat. “Looks like he outsmarted you, Steeljaw.”

Looking around, Steeljaw saw that the youngling had reclaimed his spot. Narrowing his optics, he sat down to watch him.

“I forget how quick you are, youngling. And I’m pretty sure you’re faster than last time I seen you,” Blaster continued. “Not many can dodge away from Steeljaw here. You would make a good racer.”

“Yep, dis one’s full o’ surprises,” grinned Jazz.

* * *

Half a breem later, Steeljaw decided that he wanted his chair back. Seeing that the youngling wasn’t going to let him surprise him again, he decided to take a different route.

By climbing on top of and sitting on the youngling.

“Hey! Steeljaw!” Steeldust protested, shoving the cybercat’s tail out of his face. “What’re you doing?”

“Sitting on my chair,” the yellow cat replied, shifting to be more comfortable.

Maybe Steeljaw was comfortable, not to mention very pleased with himself, but Steeldust wasn’t.

After all, the cybercat was roughly the same size as him, perhaps even a bit bigger.

“You’re not sitting on the chair. You’re sitting on me!”

“You’re sitting on my chair.”

“Steel,” Blaster called firmly.

Both cybercat and youngling looked up.

Jazz snickered while Blaster put a hand over his faceplate.

“Ya know, Blaster, dis is gonna get real confusing. Which one were ya talkin’ ta?”

“The dumb cat,” muttered Blaster. “Quit bothering, Steeldust.”

Steeljaw simply stuck his glossa out and stayed where he was.

“I guess he’s not bothering me too much,” Steeldust mused, freeing his hand so he could pet the cybercat. “He can stay here.”

Steeljaw began to make a rumbling noise in his throat. It startled the young speedster, who stopped what he was doing.

The noise stopped too. Steeljaw turned his helm to look up at Steeldust. “Why did you stop?”

“Why were you making that noise?” wondered Steeldust.

“It’s what I do when I am happy.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Checking his internal chronometer, Jazz rose to his pedes. “Ah’d better get going. Sure ya don’t mind watching Steel for awhile, Blaster?”

Both Steels glanced over at the investigator when they heard their name.

Blaster snickered. “Which one? Yeah, that’s no problem. Go do what you gotta do. We’ll stick around here.” He paused, eyeing the two seated on the chair together. “You know, unless those two hoodlums run off on me. Again.”

“Alright,” Jazz said with a laugh. “See ya all later!”

“Bye, Jazz!” Steeldust said.

“See you!” added Blaster.

After Jazz had left, Blaster turned to the two Steels. “Investigator stuff was all he told me, do you know where he’s going?”

Steeldust shrugged. “Nope.”

“Oh well. What do you two think we should do?”

Steeljaw looked up. “Can we go for a walk? I haven’t been outside for awhile.”

“Can you behave yourself and not chase some scent you found without telling me this time?” Blaster asked sternly, crossing his servos.

“I will try,” the cybercat returned.

Blaster nodded. “Steeldust? What do you think?”

“Sure.” Steeldust looked down. “I might need Steeljaw to get off first though.”

* * *

Orion followed Megatronus through the second level of Iacon. The gladiator seemed to know exactly where he was going, had he been to Iacon before?

Orion decided that he wouldn’t be surprised if he had.

Sneaking around down here was a bit unnerving to the data clerk. He had never been to this part of the city, despite living in it. He had no idea what was down here.

And was shocked when they reached their destination.

“A gladiator arena? In Iacon?” the astonished Orion Pax asked, staring down into the pit.

Two mechs viciously fought each other, the crowd cheering wildly, lusting for spilled energon.

Megatronus stood watching with his servos folded behind his back. “Not even Iacon is what it seems, Orion. The Council is corrupt, they likely are aware this place exists, willing to let it stay under the radar for their own twisted purposes.”

Orion said nothing, only watching in horror as the two mechs in the ring tore into each other.

He lifted his optics to the mecha surrounding the ring. Most of them were enjoying this horrid display. Yelling and screaming for energon to be spilt, for the two fighters to offline their opponent.

The data clerk was again shocked when he saw a familiar paint job and faceplate.

_“Why is Jazz here?”_

Seeing his friend was staring, Megatronus followed Orion’s line of sight.

“Friend of yours?” the gladiator asked.

“Yes. I would not have thought he would come here,” Orion muttered.

“Well, brother,” Megatronus grinned. “You never know who you might see.”

“Indeed.”

_“Huh, there’s Orion. And that must be Megatronus,”_ thought Jazz, spotting his friend across the ring. _“I was right. He was bringing him here.”_

Likely to further prove to the data clerk that change needed to happen.

Jazz wondered what exactly the revolutionary’s next move would be. Maybe Orion would know, although Jazz doubted he would be pleased at seeing him there.

Suddenly, as the winner of the fight was being cheered on by the crowd, basking in his win, the screens around the arena changed.

Previously, they’d been connected to cameras, showing the audience a better look at what was going on in the pit.

Now, they showed scenes, seemingly live, of Altihex.

Seekers flew across, bombing the city. There was fire everywhere, illuminating the offcycle. In the sky, you could see Altihex Station.

It too was being attacked.

The crowd began murmuring and pointing, shocked at what they were seeing.

Jazz took one look and began leaving as fast as he could.

_“Steel.”_

* * *

Steeldust stood on top of Blaster’s roof, staring north towards Altihex.

His home looked like it was being attacked.

By who, the youngling didn’t know.

The sounds of explosions could be heard faintly from the neighbouring city-state. What must be the station in Cybertron’s orbit flickered with light, probably fire.

“Steeldust!” Blaster called, climbing onto the roof. He hurried over to crouch beside the nine-vorn-old. “Steeldust, what are you doing up here?”

Steeldust merely pointed towards the lights and sounds that should not be there.

Blaster looked up, a look of shock coming over his faceplate. “Altihex. Somebody’s bombing it.”

* * *

Prowl walked over to the radio and switched it on. Immediately, the voice of the renowned gladiator-turned-political-speaker could be heard.

“Course he’s talkin’,” muttered Jazz from his chair across the room.

Jazz and Steeldust were currently staying with Prowl in Praxus. They’d arrived from Iacon late last offcycle. Luckily, they’d been there instead of Altihex.

Prowl didn’t reply. He made his way back to his chair beside the investigator and reclaimed his seat. He wished to hear what Megatronus had to say about the most recent attack. The one which brought Prowl’s guests to his door.

“The attack on Altihex was not from my command,” the gladiator was saying. “Though the mecha responsible claimed to be of the resistance group called the Decepticons, they were not operating under my authority.”

The black and white mechs glanced away from the radio as Steeldust wandered in from the kitchen. He’d been sitting under the table, one of his spots he often occupied when doing homework at Prowl’s place. The youngling’s brow furrowed as he listened, placing a hand on each of the backs of the two chairs.

“This tragedy is one of several that have happened over the past few orns,” Megatronus said. “And as I have said about those incidents, my followers may have been involved, but I was not where the plan originated. There are those who are discontent with the caste system, myself included. But violence is not the answer. There are ways to accomplish change, peaceful ways.”

“Like stealin’ da Prime?” Jazz grumbled. “Ah don’t believe he didn’t know bout these things before dey happened.”

The law enforcer turned to his friend. “Maybe. Megatronus has not said either way. He has claimed not to know Sentinel Prime’s whereabouts either.”

“Reports say seekers took ‘im. Ain’t dey operating under him?”

“Some are. One officer, Starscream, seems to at least have had contact with him,” Prowl replied. “What does that data clerk you are friends with say about this? He is with Megatronus is he not?”

Jazz nodded. “Orion is. He says they have similar goals an’ ideas, but want ta carry ‘em out different. They talked last offcycle, Ah’m uncertain what about. Orion told me he was gonna go talk ta da Grand Archivist. Haven’t heard from him since.”

“I see.”

A hand tapped Jazz on the shoulder. The investigator looked up at the nine-vorn-old. “Yeah, Steeldust?”

“Can I go to Blue’s? I told him I was in town, he wants to hang out,” Steeldust said flatly.

“Yep, be home before dark an’ don’t take da alleys,” Jazz replied. He stood and walked around the chair. Crouching so he was optic to visor level with the navy and black, he gave him a pointed look. “Remember what Ah taught ya an’ stay safe. Alright, Steeldust?”

Steeldust nodded his helm and grinned, “I will, Jazz. Don’t worry, I can handle myself.”

The investigator chuckled. “Ah know ya can. Now ya better go before Bluestreak thinks ya ain’t comin’.”

Prowl watched as Steeldust zipped out the door. He didn’t bother to tell him not to slam it on the way out. Which Steeldust did.

Jazz straightened and went back to his chair. He frowned as he listened to the gladiator who was still speaking.

“Are you certain he will be alright, Jazz?” Prowl asked, watching the youngling through the window as he ran down the street. “From what you have told me, last orn had some- Difficulties.”

Jazz was watching too. “He’ll be okay. As far as Blurr goes, Ah think it’ll take time, but at least now Steel ain’t stuck wonderin’ bout him. As for goin’ by himself? It ain’t that far. Praxus is safer then some places.”

“Is Altihex not?”

The visored black and white gestured with a hand to the radio. “Woulda thought until last offcycle. Not sure if there’ll be another attack. Didn’t know bout dis one til it was too late.”

“At least you two were unharmed.”

“Mmm, unharmed yes. Except Steeldust gets another memory of stuff blowing up and sounds of gunfire.”

“He saw then?”

Jazz laughed dryly. “The youngling was standing on Blaster’s roof watching what you could actually see from Iacon. The station was smoking pretty good by the time Ah got there.”

Prowl rubbed the red chevron on his forehelm. “Of course he ran up there. He seems to have lost his fear of loud noises.”

“Yeah. Not sure that’s a good thing or not.”

The two were quiet for a few kliks. There had been many attacks the last several orns. First the Six Lasers over Cybertron had been bombed, off lining many who were on or around the ride. Then, Polyhex and Stanix had also suffered bombing. Now Altihex and it’s orbital station, a casino and entertainment spot of many mecha, had been attacked. The count of offline or wounded hadn’t been officially made.

Perhaps most worryingly, was the disappearance of Sentinel Prime.

No one seemed to know for sure whether the old Prime had escaped or been abducted. Since the Council hadn’t heard from him and didn’t know either, it would seem the latter had happened.

“Do you need to investigate this, Jazz?” Prowl inquired, glancing at his friend.

“Ah already got a call,” Jazz returned, looking at the floor. “Ah gotta get started on it as soon as possible.”

“Steeldust may stay here if you need somewhere to leave him,” said Prowl quickly. “He would perhaps be safer here than in Altihex by himself.”

Jazz’s mouth upturned in a small smile. “Thanks, Prowl. Ah appreciate it.”

“Well,” the Praxian said stiffly, straightening in his seat. “Since you officially adopted him, I have been the one you tend to dump his care on when you’re unavailable.”

The investigator snickered. “Oops. It seems ta me ya don’t mind as much anymore though.”

Prowl shook his helm, but couldn’t help but give his friend a small smile. “I don’t know who got that excuse from the other. You or Steeldust.”

Jazz feigned an expression of shock. “Ya accusin’ me of teachin’ dat youngling things he shouldn’t be knowin’?”

“Maybe,” Prowl said lightly. He rose momentarily to turn the radio off and get them both a cube of energon. “Make sure you wait to say goodbye to Steeldust before you leave, Jazz.”

“Ah will, Prowl.”

The black and whites settled into companionable silence, enjoying the peace they had at the moment.

They were unaware of how little peace there was left.

* * *

Councillor Halogen strode down the hall towards the Council Chamber. Behind him, two of his fellow Councillors, Council Secretary Contrail and Councillor Ratbat, followed.

This orn they had a very different case. Megatronus, the gladiator, and Orion Pax, the data clerk, wished to speak to them.

The Council decided to grant them a hearing. Perhaps they could see if the gladiator truly was responsible for his zealous followers’ attacks, despite how he claimed otherwise.

And perhaps put and end to his nonsense once and for all.

Halogen could tell before they reached the Chamber, that it was full.

Full of mechs and femmes, from every caste and city state. All wanted to hear what the famous gladiator had to say to the High Council. Some hated the mech, holding him responsible for the attacks, but some were curious.

Halogen wondered how the orn would end.

* * *

“Twelve councilmembers are left. Halogen’s offline.”

Prowl stared at Jazz. The investigator had somehow returned to Praxus from Iacon before news of the hearing did.

“What happened?” the young Praxian asked.

Jazz rubbed his visor with one hand, other hand on his hip. “It was a mess, the hearing started out alright. There was a long argument between the Council and Megatronus, Who is now calling himself Megatron. After he talked for awhile, things got pretty heated up.

“Orion tried to reason with everyone. A lot of mecha seemed to side with what he said. Apparently Megatron didn’t like what both his reasoning or that others agreed. Orion was then named the next Prime. There was an uprising and Halogen was shot by Megatron. A bunch of Decepticons left with him.”

Prowl sat down, thinking hard. This did not bode well. He knew Jazz was attending the hearing, so he hadn’t gone himself. Now, he could hardly believe what his friend was saying.

“I’m sure they’ll get the rest of it out soon,” Jazz said quietly, sitting beside Prowl.

“So it’s started then?” Prowl asked, finally finding his words.

“War?” the young investigator asked. “I think it started awhile ago. Megatron just verbally declared it today.”

* * *

“Jazz, if you are going to join Optimus Prime, what do you intend to do with Steeldust. You cannot bring him with you into a war.”

“I know, Prowl. I’m working on figuring out what to do,” said Jazz, looking dejectedly down at the table.

Prowl flicked his doorwings. “Mecha are saying they doubt this will last long, but I confess, I believe otherwise. This tension between castes and the Council has been building for too long.”

“Yeah, Ah know what you mean. Megatron more or less pulled the pin and now everything’s gonna blow.” Jazz shook his helm. “If it hasn’t already.”

“What have you thought of so far as far as leaving Steeldust?” Prowl asked. “I would offer to take him, but I am considering joining you.”

“Ah appreciate dat, Prowler,” replied Jazz. “Ah hate ta ask anyone else ta take him, but don’t want ta put him in an orphanage temporarily either.”

“I do not believe Steeldust would do well there, Jazz.” Prowl thought for a few kliks. “What about Aftershock and Aurora Star?”

Jazz shrugged. “Ah don’t know. They might be willing...”

“Then ask them. It would be better for Steeldust to stay with someone he knows.”

“And what about Barricade? We still haven’t figured out who he was looking for Steeldust for.”

Prowl scoffed. “I am certain that he will be too busy with whatever Megatron tells him to do.”

“Ah suppose.”

As the two mechs continued their discussion, neither noticed a small frame silently backtrack out of the house.

Steeldust had returned from the park where he’d been visiting Smokescreen and Bluestreak. Once he’d stepped in the door of Prowl’s house, his happy mood had been shattered.

Unbeknownst to either Prowl or Jazz, Steeldust had heard the whole conversation.

They were leaving him.

_“Why-are-they-going-to-leave-me? I-could-go-with-them-I-know-how-to-fight,”_ Steeldust thought to himself as he trudged away.

As the oncycle began turning to offcycle, Steeldust continued to walk down the familiar streets.

_“First-Carrier-and-Sire. Then-Blurr. Now-Jazz-and-Prowl-too? Will-everyone-eventually-leave-me?”_ wondered the youngling.

_“Why-do-mecha-keep-leaving-me?”_

Steeldust paused at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn. His hands balled into fists as he thought. Doorwings hitched upwards.

“Fine,” he spat lowly. “Everybody can leave me.” He glared at the light that still hadn’t turned so he could cross the street. He continued, anger leaving his voice. Instead, his voice broke as he began to shake. “I don’t need anyone.”

He sat down on the curb, still shaking. Burying his helm in his servos, Steeldust cried. Loneliness crept through him, making him feel cold.

No one stopped to see why a youngling was sitting by himself on the curb.

Breems later, Steeldust made his way back to Prowl’s.

Jazz asked where he’d been and if he was okay. Steeldust replied that he’d been wandering around and that he was just tired.

He went to go and recharge, hoping to forget the hurt and lonely feelings.

* * *

Prowl held Silver tightly in his servos, resting his chin on her helm.

“I don’t want you to go,” she said lowly, returning the embrace.

“I will come back, Silver. I promise,” Prowl replied.

They pulled away, looking at each other sadly.

“I know you will.” Silver expression firm. “And I’ll be here. Waiting for you.”

Prowl lifted a hand, brushing her cheek. Silver stood on the tip of her pedes and quickly kissed him.

A whistle blew.

“You had better go.” She smiled sadly. “The transport is leaving.”

Pulling Silver close again, Prowl leaned down and kissed her. She returned it, moving her servos around his neck. Then, she pushed him away.

“Be safe, Prowl. I love you.”

“I love you, Silver.” Prowl turned, hastily walking away. He got onto the transport, looking back at her through the window as it began moving.

Silver stood on the platform, her hand lifted as she waved. A few others around her were saying their goodbyes as well.

All of them hoped that those heading to join the Autobot army would return.

Not many from Praxus were joining. The leaders had still decided to stay out of the conflict.

There were some Praxians that left to join anyways. Prowl was one of them.

Silver and Prowl stayed as they were until the transport was out of sight of the station. Only then, did Silver let her tears fall.

She only hoped that Prowl would return unharmed. And soon.

* * *

Steeldust stood by the four-wheeled transport, a bag of his belongings beside him. He looked sadly up at Jazz.

“Please don’t go,” the youngling pleaded.

“I have to Steel. Somebody has to go and fight,” Jazz replied sadly.

“But- Why does it have to be you?” Steeldust protested, looking away.

Jazz didn’t have an answer.

He knelt down and brought his young charge into a hug. “I’ll come back for you, Steeldust. I promise. As soon as I can, I’ll come back.”

Steeldust buried his faceplate in Jazz’s shoulder, doorwings slumped as low as they could go. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, Steel. Be strong and take care, okay?”

“Okay.”

Steeldust let go and Jazz straightened. They glanced up, seeing the other mecha were already on the transport.

“Goodbye, Jazz,” Steeldust sniffed, picking up his bag and climbing the stairs into the transport.

“Goodbye, Zipper.”

The driver closed the doors and moved the transport away from the curb.

Steeldust rushed to the back of the transport, gazing out the back window.

Jazz stood where he’d left him, doorwings sagging. He lifted his hand in a wave.

Steeldust waved until the transport turned a corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit Song: The Call - Regina Spektor
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	24. Broken Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A missed meeting, a long and dangerous journey, wanderers, dinnertime, and a young pair of optics are opened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter in the story, friends...

Jazz hurried through the base, nodding a greeting to the mecha he passed.

Normally, the former investigator would stop to chat. Right now, he had other things on his mind.

Like searching for Prowl.

Who turned out to be in a rather important meeting.

Jazz had already decided he wasn’t too fond of meetings.

Pacing back and forth in the hallway outside the newly designated meeting room, Jazz muttered to himself.

“Of all the times ta call a meeting Ori- Ah mean, Optimus. Dat’s gonna take some gettin’ used ta.”

Finally, the door opened and the mecha that had been present began to exit. The short investigator moved between them, looking for Prowl.

He found him quickly. The Praxian did not look impressed when he saw Jazz.

“Jazz. Where were you? You were supposed to attend,” Prowl remarked, crossing his servos.

Waving him off, Jazz grabbed his servo, pulling him along. “Not now, Prowl. Yell at me later.”

“Where are you going?” asked Prowl, trying to reclaim his servo. “Jazz. Why are you so worked up?”

Jazz halted, making Prowl almost run into him. The former investigator turned to face his friend.

“Aurora Star just commed me. The transport we put Steeldust on was sabotaged,” he replied worriedly.

Prowl’s optics widened. “Is Steeldust alright?”

Shaking his helm, Jazz began to pace again. “They don’t know. First responders didn’t find any sign of him. The crash was pretty bad. Aurora said there weren’t many survivors found.

“Apparently, the mecha responsible mugged the passengers and offlined any who protested. Then, they blew up what was left of the transport. They left the mecha they’d dragged out of it alone after that.”

“So they think he escaped then?”

“That’s what it seems like. Enforcement is still looking into it.” Jazz stopped, looking at the floor. “He has to have escaped.”

Prowl stepped closer, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulderplate. “Steeldust likely made it away undetected. Since he does not yet have a comm, there’s no way we can contact him. However, he will most likely keep heading to Aurora Star and Aftershock’s home.”

“Ah hope yer right.”

An alarm blared through the base.

The two black and whites exchanged a look before running off to investigate.

* * *

Steeldust lifted the lid of the dumpster and peered out.

The mechs that had been chasing him had passed right by his hiding place, and were now gone.

Picking up his bag, the youngling crawled out. After looking himself over, he flicked off a few pieces of trash that was stuck to him.

“Good thing it was mostly empty,” Steeldust muttered, grimacing as he realized he now smelled like the dumpster.

Walking stealthily in the opposite direction, away from the mechs who had made the transport crash, Steeldust kept a sharp optic and audio out.

He wasn’t sure how many mecha had attacked.

Less sure how many mecha that had been on the transport were still online.

Steeldust shuddered. If he hadn’t been by the open window and fell out when the transport lost control...

He very likely wouldn’t be wandering around.

_“What do I do now?”_ he wondered to himself. _“I don’t know what part of Praxus this is.”_

Steeldust was supposed to be going to live with Aftershock and Aurora Star until Jazz returned from the Autobot army.

But now he was lost.

Steeldust looked down at his hands and servos that had taken the brunt of his fall. His hands were okay, just bruised and scraped. But his right servo had got cut by something and there was a nasty looking gash. It had mostly stopped leaking now that he’d found something in his bag to tie around it.

It still stung though.

He was lucky his injuries weren’t worse.

_“If-I-was-older-and-had-a-comm-then-I-could-call-someone-to-come-get-me. Or-if-I-had-an-alt-mode-I-could-just-drive-myself.”_

A map of the city might be nice too. He didn’t know this part of Praxus.

He figured he’d just have to walk until he found an adult mecha that could help him. That shouldn’t be too hard.

Right?

After walking for about a breem, Steeldust stopped.

“What-am-I-doing? I-don’t-want-to-go-live-with-them. They’re-nice-and-I-like-them-but-I’d-really-rather-just-stay-with-Jazz,” the youngling said to himself.

An idea came to Steeldust. A crazy idea.

“Maybe, if I find Jazz, all by myself, then he’ll realize that I’ll be okay staying with him!”

After all, if he could make it across two city-states on his own, then he should be able to make it in a war. Besides, he already knew how to fight. At least a little anyways.

Possibly more than some adult mecha did.

Steeldust narrowed his optics, mouth setting in a grim line as he pulled the strap of his bag higher onto his shoulder.

That’s what he would do. He would go find Jazz and Prowl. Prove to them that he wasn’t just a little helpless youngling to be left behind. That would convince them.

He was sure of it.

Grinning, Steeldust turned and found a building he could climb. With a quick look at the stars, he got back down to the ground and ran.

Heading east.

East to Iacon.

Little did the nine-vorn-old know, it was going to be a long and dangerous journey.

* * *

A decacycle later, Steeldust had made it out of the main city and through most of the rest of Praxus.

After almost losing his bag several times by various ways, the youngling went looking for a medic who would be willing to give him an upgrade that included subspace pockets. And treat his servo.

He had finally found one in a lower caste section of the city. The mech was glad to fix the young one’s servo. However, he was hesitant about the subspace pockets, since Steeldust was a few vorns younger than most medics liked when performing that upgrade. But the speedster managed to convince him with the help of most of his remaining credit he had with him.

Steeldust then had stopped for a few orns to recover. The upgrade hadn’t been too bad on his frame, but it still had worn him out. He’d hung out in an abandoned building not far from the medic’s clinic, just in case.

He was glad he didn’t ask the medic about an alt form upgrade too, though even he knew he’d have to wait a few more vorns yet.

Once he felt he could go on, Steeldust sorted through the few belongings his bag carried and placed them in his subspace. Perhaps, some orn, he could come back for his stuff that was at Aftershock and Aurora Star’s.

After that, Steeldust moved on, leaving the bag where it was.

He wouldn’t need it anymore so there was no point in taking it.

Once reaching the border, Steeldust glanced over his shoulder.

In the distance, he could just make out the skyline of the city. Between it and him, there were a few variations in the landscape.

“I wonder when I’ll next see Praxus,” Steeldust wondered aloud.

He’d taken to talking to himself, more than he ever had before. There was nobody else to talk to, so why not.

“I’ll have to come back and see Blue.”

With one last look, Steeldust sped across the border and into Altihex.

Jogging at a fair pace, the navy and black moved steadily on until the offcycle neared. At around this time of the orn, he would begin to look for a place to spend the offcycle, figuring it was safer to travel by orn.

Finding a crevice that went through the next layer of the planet, Steeldust slipped down in. Allowing his night vision to adjust, he soon found a place to recharge where he felt would be safe.

The youngling stretched before crawling into the small hole and laying down.

_“I-wonder-what-everybody-else-is-doing-now,”_ he thought as he listened to his surroundings.

The offcycle creatures had begun to come out as the solar cycle ended.

Above him, he could just barely hear the chirping of some tiny nocturnal creatures. Somewhere else, there was light skittering, possibly a retrorat or petrorabbit.

_“I-wonder-if-anyone-misses-me-or-realizes-that-I’m-missing.”_

Steeldust rolled over onto his side, faceplate facing the entrance to his burrow. If it weren’t for the fact he wanted to hear anything or anyone coming, he’d listen to music.

Instead, he had to settle for the chirping song above ground.

Which wasn’t actually that bad Steeldust decided.

He could do this. He’d made it into Altihex with only minor challenges.

“One more city-state,” he told himself, as he began drifting off into recharge.

In the distance, a cyberwolf howled.

Steeldust was suddenly very awake. He jumped, hitting his helm and doorwings against the walls of his hole.

Another cyberwolf answered, followed by a few more.

Forcing himself to relax, Steeldust muttered to himself, “They’re-not-close-just-their-voices-carry-a-long-way. And-besides-they-can’t-get-down-here. The-crevice-I-came-down-is-too-small.”

With that thought, Steeldust shifted to be more comfortable and tried to recharge.

It wasn’t that much of a problem, he’d traveled all orn and was tired.

Soon enough, the nine-vorn-old was out, lulled to recharge by the offcycle creatures.

* * *

Several offcycles later, Steeldust found himself in a bit of a situation.

He’d come across a few mecha, likely wanderers. They seemed to be setting up camp for the offcycle.

Curiosity getting the better of him, the youngling snuck closer. His dark paint job blended fairly well with the growing shadows and he managed to get quite close.

Not close enough for his movements to be picked up by the flickering firelight though.

As he watched, he listened to the mecha talking to each other.

“Stupid Decepticons and Autobots. They’ve wrecked everything,” one of the mechs snarled, dropping the servo-load of stuff he was carrying.

“Be careful,” snapped a second one, shooting the first mech a dark glare.

The orange one threw out his servos, frowning down at the seated mecha. “What? Not like this scrap ‘ll break- “

“No! Be careful what you say.”

“Never know who’s listening,” added the third mech, who’d been silent until now.

All three mechs were quiet then, peering out into the darkness surrounding their fire.

“Now that you say that-“ the second one said slowly, shifting nervously.

“I feel it too.” The third mecha got to his pedes, hand going to the weapon holstered at his waist.

Steeldust froze.

The mecha continued to warily look around, but didn’t see the youngling hiding nearby.

Gradually, the group settled down, sitting around the fire. They were, however, watching what they said, talking in low tones. They were still wary, feeling like they were being watched.

Forgetting his fear of being discovered, Steeldust crept forwards. He couldn’t hear what they were saying anymore and he wanted to know what they were talking about.

_“Why-do-they-have-to-be-careful-about-what-they-say-about-the-two-sides-in-the-war?”_ the youngling wondered to himself.

There was a large rock just outside the circle of light from the mechas’ fire. Steeldust made his way towards it, his pedes not making a sound as he snuck closer.

Something he had somewhat unconsciously learned from his guardian was how to move silently.

“I don’t care what anyone thinks. This war is only going to make things worse.”

“How do ya know that? They’ve already basically overthrown the Council. Isn’t that in everyone’s best interest? No Council, no caste system.”

“Yeah. But what then? Do you think that every mecha will be willing to just give up the order the caste system provided? Besides, the Council isn’t gone. Yet.”

“The Council has already lost a few members, though I think we all know Ratbat ran away to hide in Polyhex.”

“You think the little schemer has plans for Polyhex?”

“Pfft. This is Senator Ratbat we’re talking about. If he knows how to do anything, it’s scheming.”

Steeldust twitched his doorwings. _“What-would-the-Senator-want-to-do-to-Polyhex?”_

He sat down, accidentally dislodging the metal gravel beneath him.

Three helms jerked towards his hiding place.

Instantly freezing in place, Steeldust’s plating flattened tight against his frame. Doorwings hiked upwards as his optics widened. He pressed up against the rock, hoping he could somehow melt into it. Or blend in.

All was suddenly silent except for various nocturnal creatures in the near vicinity.

Steeldust held still, not even daring to vent. His fuel pump was hammering hard enough he thought he could hear it.

Astrokliks ticked by. No one said a word. No one moved.

Suddenly, a hand reached around the rock, clamping down over Steeldust’s mouth.

Immediately, Steeldust began thrashing and fighting as another hand grabbed him, picking him up.

“Well, well, well,” rumbled a broad, orange coloured mech as Steeldust was carried into the circle of light. “Look what we have here. Pretty young for a spy.”

Steeldust managed to remove the hand over his faceplate by biting one of the mech’s digits.

“Ouch! The little turbofox bit me!” the mech exclaimed, shaking his injured hand. He still held the youngling firm with his other servo, pinning him to himself.

“I’m-not-a-spy!” Steeldust yelled, still trying to wriggle free. “Let-me-go!”

“Feisty little thing, isn’t he?” chuckled the second mech, a dark purple, medium-built flier. He stepped forward to examine their intruder. “What’s someone like you doing out in the middle of nowhere all alone?”

“Maybe he’s not alone,” muttered the mech holding the youngling. He glanced around again warily.

The second mech shook his helm. “He’s alone. There’s no one within an orn’s journey that has any younglings with them.”

“LET. ME. GO!” Steeldust yelled, jerking violently with each word. With one last jerk, the youngling threw his pedes up and brought them back hard.

The mech holding him grunted in pain as two heels hit him in the tank.

But he didn’t put the youngling down.

“We won’t hurt you,” said the second mech. “Why are you out here by yourself?”

“I’m on my way to find my guardian,” hissed the speedster, pausing from trying to escape. “I didn’t mean to spy on you, I was just wanting to know what you were talking about.”

“See?” The second mech said, spreading his servos and shrugging. “Just a nosy youngling.”

The first mech furrowed his optic ridges, folding his servos. “Where is your guardian?”

“If-you-put-me-down-I’ll-tell-you.”

Steeldust was suddenly on the ground in a pile of limbs.

“Oof!”

“Why’d you drop him? You could’ve broke his pedes!”

“He’s fine,” the third mech said, gesturing with a hand to the youngling. “See, look. He’s getting up.”

Steeldust untangled himself and got to his pedes. Sending a glare up at the blue mech who’d dropped him, he turned his attention to the other two.

“My guardian went to Iacon to join the Autobot army.”

Silence.

The orange mech vented heavily and went to go sit down. The others followed him.

Steeldust tilted his helm. After a few kliks, he followed and sat down on the ground near the three mechs.

“Did I say something wrong?”

The purple mech looked down at the youngling sadly. “You got left behind and decided to follow, didn’t ya?”

Steeldust nodded. “Yeah, I mean, I’m sure that if I manage to get there by myself, it’ll prove that I- “

The first mech held up a hand, interrupting him.

With a shake of his helm, he said, “Look, youngling. You should have stayed where you were put. It’s dangerous to be out here alone.”

“I-made-it-this-far. All-the-way-from-Praxus, partway through the city itself,” Steeldust said defensively, jabbing a digit towards himself. “And I couldn’t stay where-I-was put cause-some mecha attacked the transport I was on. I got lost and now all I want is to find my guardian!”

The third mech turned his helm to look at him. “And how do you know your guardian is still in Iacon. It’s a war. Mecha move around to different battlefields. Or get offlined.”

With a shudder at the thought of Jazz being offlined, Steeldust grimaced.

“Then Jazz will find me. He’s good at finding things.”

“How long did you say you’ve been lost?” inquired the second mech.

“Almost two decacycles.”

The three mechs shared a look.

“Does your guardian know you’re lost?”

“Well, I think he should. The mecha that I was supposed to be staying with must know that I haven’t got there yet. They probably told him,” Steeldust said, optic ridges furrowed.

“Then if he’s so good at finding things like you say,” began the blue mech. “Why hasn’t he found you?”

Steeldust’s optics widened a fraction.

Why hadn’t Jazz found him yet?

“Sorry, youngling. You might just be on your own,” the first mech said slowly.

Speaking up quickly, the second mech gestured to the fire. “You can stay with us for the offcycle, youngling. Then, next orn, we will bring you with us. We’re meeting with another group of wanderers to join them. Safety in numbers, you know. They have families with younglings that you could perhaps stay with.”

“Okay. Thank you, “ muttered Steeldust, staring into the fire as he rapidly thought.

Surely Jazz knew he hadn’t made it to Aurora and Aftershock’s. So why hadn’t he found him yet? This was the shortest way from Praxus to Iacon. They should’ve crossed paths by now.

As Steeldust laid down to recharge by the fire, now sure the mecha wouldn’t hurt him, he had an awful thought.

_“What if- What if Jazz isn’t looking for me?”_

* * *

Steeldust resisted the urge to roll his optics at the question he’d just been asked.

In the past few orns since he and the three wanderers had joined the larger group, Steeldust had been asked why he was alone so many times.

The question was starting to get old. Fast.

With an annoyed twitch of his doorwings, the nine-vorn-old looked back up at the femme who’d asked it this time. In a as polite a tone as he could muster, Steeldust replied, “Well-about-two-vorns-ago-my-creators-were-offlined. I-was-found-by-my-guardian-who-adopted-me. He-left-to-join-the-Autobots. I-had-lost-contact-with-my-brother-until-recently. He-doesn’t-want-anything-to-do-with-me. The-transport-I-was-on-to-get-to-where-I-was-gonna-be-staying-got-attacked-and-robbed. I-escaped-and-am-heading-to-Iacon-to-find-my-guardian.”

After Steeldust finished his by-now-well-memorized-speech, he sat silently beside the femme, awaiting her response.

The femme just sat there, not sure if she should ask the youngling to repeat whatever it was that he had said. She had never met someone who could talk so fast.

Mulling it over, she realized she probably got the gist of it by the emotion and tone. With a quick nod, she said, “I see. I am sorry for what you’ve been through.”

With that, the femme got up and hurriedly walked away, casting one last look over her shoulder.

As she continued off, Steeldust couldn’t help but smirk. Mecha could keep asking him to tell his story, but he would just keep making it really brief.

Not that most of them understood what he’d said anyways.

Steel had decided that that was fine by him though. He wasn’t planning on sticking around long, why get to know anyone? Or let them get to know him.

And it was somewhat amusing to see mecha’s reactions to his speed. Both how fast he moved and how fast he talked when he wanted to.

As he sat in his corner of the cave, Steeldust remembered the orn he’d caught the petrorabbit at school. He smiled at the memory of Prowl’s reaction when he was told.

He missed the enforcer.

Narrowing his optics, Steeldust got up, heading to find some supplies. If he had anything to do with it, he’d be in Iacon soon.

Then, he’d find Jazz and Prowl.

See if they still thought he should stay in Praxus.

The navy and black youngling made his way to the part of the cave where the wanderers were keeping their supplies. Some of it had been stolen, Steeldust was quite certain.

But like Gasket and his group of mecha had explained when he was with them, sometimes it was necessary. Gasket didn’t like it, but they did what they had to to survive.

The wanderers weren’t really that different.

_“And-I-guess-I’m-not-either,”_ Steeldust thought as he hesitantly grabbed a few cubes of energon and a small dagger from the pile. After putting them in his subspace pockets, he snuck back out into the main cave area.

This offcycle, he would leave.

From observing the sentries that guarded the camp the past few offcycles, Steeldust had figured out exactly where he could escape without their notice. There was one blind spot in their surveillance.

As grateful as he was for the group’s care and help, Steeldust was ready to keep going.

Though, after talking to some of the mecha here, the youngling had some doubts.

_“Do-they-even-want-me-to-find-them? Of-course-they-do. Why-wouldn’t-they?”_ Steeldust frowned at himself for thinking like that.

_“But-they-did-leave-you- “_

Steeldust paused, stopping to look around him.

This group of wanderers was almost like a big family, made up of smaller ones and a bunch of loners who had joined together.

Maybe he could, _should_ , stay with them. They seemed like they would accept him. There were several younglings around his age that he might become friends with.

_“No. I-already-have-a-family. I-just-need-to-go-find-some-of-them,”_ Steeldust thought, shaking his helm. _“Jazz-must-just-be-really-busy-with-war-stuff-and-hasn’t-had-time-to-come-looking-for-me.”_

The youngling kept walking towards the area he was recharging in. He would stick around there until dark.

_“Too busy to find you? He’s your guardian, he’s supposed to take care of you,”_ said a small voice in Steeldust’s helm.

After battling with the thoughts in his helm for some time, Steeldust got up.

It was dark now. Time to leave.

Despite the doubts that had been planted by the mecha who were skeptical or concerned about Steeldust’s wishes to go to Iacon, the youngling was still going to try.

He couldn’t accept that there was a possibility that Jazz didn’t care about him anymore.

It couldn’t be true.

Steeldust refused to believe it.

Maybe Blurr didn’t care, but Jazz did. He didn’t leave him on purpose because he wanted to.

No one noticed the slim figure sneak past the mecha on sentry duty and run off into the offcycle.

Steeldust didn’t look back. He kept his optics and pedes directed to the southeast.

He was going to Iacon. He was going to find Jazz and Prowl.

No matter what.

* * *

“Maybe-I-should-have-stayed-with-the-wanderers!” Steeldust said to himself as he ran.

Throwing a quick glance over his shoulder, the youngling scanned behind him.

He whipped his helm around and ran faster.

They were still chasing him!

“I’m-glad-I-didn’t-stop-to-recharge-somewhere! I-wouldn’t-have-seen-them-coming!”

Off to his left somewhere, a cyberwolf let out a howl. The ones behind him answered.

Steeldust continued to run. He had no idea where he was going. He just had to outrun them.

About a couple breems after leaving, Steeldust had come across the pack. He’d been crossing a shallow valley when he happened to look up at a hill that bordered the one side.

A lone cyberwolf was standing there.

It hadn’t noticed him at first, not until it saw a flash of movement.

Apparently making a run for it, hoping the giant creature wouldn’t be able to see him, was a bad idea.

It had let out a howl, alerting and calling the rest of the pack to chase the prey that sped through the valley.

A terrified Steeldust had suddenly become so much more terrified when, just as he reached the end of the valley, three more cyberwolves appeared.

Right in front of him.

Letting out a shriek, Steeldust had hit the brakes. He tried to stop so fast that he’d tripped over his own pedes, tumbling helm over heels away from the predators.

It probably saved him from colliding with sharp denta.

From there, Steeldust had rapidly scrambled to his pedes, slightly dizzy, and bolted.

Since then, the cyberwolves had chased him.

Steeldust wasn’t sure how many of them there were. What he did know, was that he didn’t want to stop and chat with any of them.

Especially not over dinner.

Which, if he didn’t lose them, he might just become.

Picking up speed, Steeldust became merely a blur to anyone who watched.

Which of course, was just the cyberwolves.

After a few kliks, Steeldust slowed down to a jog, venting hard. He didn’t dare stop and cool down, simply looking over his shoulder to make sure he’d lost the pack.

Obviously, they were nowhere in sight, being left in his dust.

_“They-can-still-sniff-out-my-tracks-and-follow-me-though,”_ Steeldust thought. _“I-gotta-keep-moving-just-in-case.”_

So the youngling kept on running.

Even when the offcycle ended and the solarcycle began, Steeldust kept running.

He entered the edge of a town halfway through the orn, intending to find a place to rest.

Finding an old building he could break into, Steeldust snuck inside and found an empty room.

He curled up on the floor in the far corner, facing the door. Within a few kliks, the tired youngling was in deep recharge.

Steeldust hadn’t recharged well for over two decacycles now, and exhaustion was setting in.

The fear and running away from the cyberwolves had just added to that.

* * *

Jazz scanned the battlefield.

The battle was over. They had won.

For now.

Lifting a hand to his comm, the former investigator waited for an answer.

“Yes, Jazz. What is the situation?”

“The Decepticons retreated. We got several injured mecha getting prepared ta come yer way,” Jazz replied, moving towards a small group huddled around some mecha on the ground. “Mind sendin’ some additional transport out here?”

“Right away,” the medic replied.

The comm was disconnected.

Jazz reached the group and stood just outside the circle. He glanced around, keeping an optic for any stray Decepticons that hadn’t retreated or had returned.

Nothing but fellow Autobots to be seen.

A familiar Praxian made his way towards the former investigator.

Jazz noticed and strode over to meet him.

“Ah’ve already got my mecha watchin’ for any ‘Cons. An’ a transports on its way fo’ da injured ones.”

Prowl gave a quick nod, optics surveying the scene around them. “Very good, Jazz. As soon as it gets here, we will all leave. I want you to make sure that there is a group that follows as rear guard. And tell them to watch the skies as well.”

“Right.” Jazz twitched his doorwings in annoyance. “Dumb seekers.”

“Exactly.”

Soon the Autobots were heading back to their base, leaving a small squad to bury the offline.

The Decepticons would likely be back to deal with their own.

As Jazz drove along with the rear guard, he wondered where his youngling was. He still hadn’t heard anything from Aftershock, who had promised to send word the astroklik that Steeldust got to them.

It had been over two and a half decacycles.

Where could Steeldust possibly be?

The former investigator refused to accept the possibility that Steeldust was offline.

* * *

Steeldust trudged through the dark Altihexian landscape.

He was glad for his night vision. The offcycle was dark, and there weren’t any stars out to light or guide his path.

The nine-vorn-old had left the main city last offcycle, keeping to the outskirts of it to travel faster.

Now he was back in the mostly unpopulated area of the city-state.

Suddenly, as he crested a small rise, Steeldust came to a halt.

There were mecha, dozens of them, laying on the ground all over the area.

_“Why-are-they-not-together? This-is-the-strangest-camp-I’ve-ever-seen.“_ Steeldust thought, furrowing his optic ridges. _“And-I-don’t-see-anyone-on-sentry.”_

Flicking his doorwings, he crouched, then edged closer to investigate.

_“Who-are-these-mecha? They’re-so-quiet. And-why-does-it-smell-weird-here?”_

Steeldust neared the closest mecha, ready to bolt if he woke up.

_“This one must be a Seeker,”_ the youngling thought, noting the large wings on the mech’s back. _“Wonder-what-he’s-doing-here. Don’t-Seekers-like-it-in-their-own-city-state?”_

Suddenly, Steeldust’s optics widened as he noticed something. He took a sharp intake, scrambling backwards a few steps.

There was a pool of energon underneath the Seeker.

Whipping his helm around, Steeldust looked at the mecha who were close by. Now that he was closer to them, he could see that there was energon by them too. And in various other places on the ground.

“What- What-happened-here?” Steeldust whispered fearfully.

He crept forward again, moving closer to the Seeker. Maybe he could help them, or run and get help.

But one look at the Seeker’s dark optics and the hole in his chest told Steeldust otherwise.

He was offline.

After investigating a few other mecha, Steeldust realized that all of them must be offlined.

“Why?” The youngling scanned the horizons fearfully, trying not to purge his tank. “What-happened-to-them-all?”

_“Holes-in-their-chests-or-helms. Marks-that-look-like-knife-wounds-maybe. Dents- “_

Steeldust backed away in horror.

“The war-“ he said in a whisper, wide optics darting from mecha to mecha. “They were fighting and- They were offlined.”

_“Which-side-were-they-on?”_

Steeldust had noted that all the mecha he’d taken a closer look at had some sort of symbol thing on their plating. They must have all been on the same side because the symbol or whatever it was was the same.

But which side wore it?

“Jazz- “

Steeldust didn’t want to see if Jazz or Prowl were here.

But he had to look.

Carefully making his way across the battlefield, Steeldust looked for familiar doorwings and black and white paint schemes.

As he reached the last mecha, Steeldust vented out a sigh of relief.

They weren’t there.

_“But-“_ Steeldust glanced back, a sorrowful expression on his faceplate. _“Some mecha knew them. They belong to someone.”_

No matter what side they were on, surely someone would miss them.

Seeing the tracks of what looked like it could be a large transport, Steeldust decided to see where it had gone. They seemed to possibly head towards Iacon.

Maybe, he could find someone who could tell him where the Autobots were. Maybe, the trail would lead him to Jazz.

With images of what he saw forever seared into his memory banks, Steeldust resumed his journey with a new perspective on the war.

* * *

As soon as Steeldust reached Iacon’s border, he lost the trail amidst other tracks.

“Well-at-least-I-made-it,” he muttered. “On-my-own.”

What excitement and determination Steeldust had had in Praxus when he started on his journey was now different. The excitement of making the journey by himself was gone. He was still determined to find Jazz, but unknowingly perhaps, his purpose had changed slightly.

Steeldust wanted some answers.

The trek from Praxus to Iacon had changed him. He’d learned and saw some things about the world. Some of his opinions on things had been changed.

And he’d gained some that he’d never had before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit Song: Something Wild - Lindsey Stirling
> 
> However, when I was editing this chapter, I had Sam Tinnesz's song "Wolves" stuck in my head. That one kinda works too.. ;P Two credit songs? Hey, why not.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and for sticking with this story!


	25. This is the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unbelieved claims, seeking, chasing, and capture. Ponderings and a life-changing decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter!

“Why should we let you in? You are too young, youngling.”

Steeldust stared up at the broad mech standing in the doorway, blocking him. “Just give me a chance, please! I can prove that I can race!”

The mech rolled his optics, crossing his servos. “Heard that one before. Look, you want to race? Come back in a few vorns when you are old enough to join the juniors’.”

Steeldust stubbornly didn’t move.

Motioning with a hand, the mech made a shooing gesture. “Off you go. Shoo.”

“Can I- At least talk to Blurr?” Steeldust asked hesitantly.

The security guard raised an optic ridge. “Blurr? You know everyone wants to talk to that mechling? Despite what you mecha seem to think, he’s got better things to do than talk to everyone who decides they want to. Chances are, he won’t want to talk to you, even if he wasn’t busy.”

Steeldust crossed his servos, glaring angrily to the side. “You-got-that-right,” he muttered lowly.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing.”

“Alright. Now unless you have something else you want to tell me and try to persuade me to let you in, I have actual work to do,” the mech said, watching the youngling carefully _. “He seems like the type to try something. I’d better watch him; he does seem quick- “_

“Actually-I-do,” Steeldust replied rapidly. He threw his shoulders back, straightening to his full height.

Which, considering he only came up to around the large security guard’s knee joints, wasn’t that impressive.

The guard sighed. “And what might that be?”

“I’m-the-youngest-son-of-Wingracer-and-Harmony,” Steeldust said confidently. _“Now-he-should-listen-to-me.”_

The mech stood, blinking, for several kliks. Steeldust returned his stare calmly.

“Pardon me?” the guard finally asked incredulously.

Steeldust’s shoulders and doorwings slumped. With a sigh, he repeated what he had said, only slower so the mech could understand him.

“I am the youngest son of Wingracer and Harmony.”

“Uh-huh. And I’m Alpha Trion,” the security guard said, irritated. “I’ve heard that one way too many times also, youngling. And I really do not appreciate your trying to get me to let you in.”

Steeldust stared up at him, confused. Others had claimed that they were him?

“Now scram. You have wasted enough of my time,” growled the mech. “The audacity of some mecha, pretending to be some youngling that’s been missing for vorns just to get their way.”

“But-I-am-him! I-mean-I’m-me!” Steeldust protested, backing up as the mech advanced. “I’m Steeldust!”

“Nice to meet you. Now leave.”

Realizing he wasn’t going to get anywhere without a fight, which he rathered to not get into with this mech, Steeldust nodded. “Okay. Fine. I’ll go,” he hissed angrily, plating and doorwings flaring.

With one last dark glare, Steeldust turned, helm held high. After walking a few yards, he ran off into the offcycle.

The mech waited at the door for several kliks to make sure the youngling wouldn’t return.

“If looks could offline,” he grunted, shaking his helm. “And if every speedy mecha got in, we’d be overrun.”

* * *

Steeldust sat in an alleyway, throwing a small ball at the opposite wall and catching it when it bounced back.

“Well, at least I didn’t get thrown out into a puddle by this security guard,” he muttered. “Being wet, cold and sore wasn’t fun.”

_“Now-what-do-I-do? I-can’t-find-Jazz. I’m-too-young-to-race-and-they-won’t-let-me. Probably nobody-would-let-me-join-the-army-either-and-I-don’t-think-I-want-to.”_

Steeldust shuddered as he remembered the deserted battlefield he’d come across in Altihex.

_“I-don’t-really-want-to-go-all-the-way-back-to-Praxus-by-myself. Blurr-wants-nothing-to-do-with-me. I-don’t-know-anyone-else-besides-Blaster-and-Steeljaw-in-Iacon-but-I-couldn’t-find-them-either. I-don’t-know-where-to-look-for-Gasket.”_

Burying his helm in his servos, Steeldust tried not to cry. He felt so alone.

It was like no one cared about him anymore.

_“Everyone leaves,”_ he thought sadly.

* * *

Steeldust woke up to something touching his pedes.

He jerked upright, and heard squeaking.

Looking towards the sound, he tilted his helm.

Not very far away, a couple retrorats sat, observing him carefully in case he suddenly moved again.

Putting the pieces together, Steeldust grimaced in disgust. “Eww!”

They’d been nibbling on his pedes.

“Shoo! Get out of here!” he hissed, waving his servos.

The retrorats scurried away, squeaking fearfully.

With a shudder, Steeldust checked over his pedes. Seeing no bite marks, he laid back down, curling up again.

For awhile, he laid there, trying to go back to recharge.

The thought of the retrorats returning to chew on him prevented him from doing just that. Every small noise he heard made him wonder if they were watching, waiting for him to fall into recharge.

Finally, the youngling got up with a small groan and left the shelter of his alley.

There was no point in staying there now.

“I hate retrorats,” he decided out loud as he trudged down the sidewalk.

After walking for some time, Steeldust found himself near the Towers.

Gazing up at the tall buildings, the navy and black wondered how the mecha could bare to live like they did when there were other mecha who lived with nothing out in the streets.

_“Maybe they don’t even know we exist,”_ Steeldust thought, counting himself in with them.

After all, he didn’t really have a home anymore either. And he was an outcast now too.

As he watched the little he could see through the windows high above him, he heard someone approaching.

“Hey! You!” a deep-voice yelled.

Steeldust glanced towards the voice. It was a guard, probably patrolling the area beneath the Towers. Steeldust braced himself, refusing to run just because someone yelled at him.

The mech came closer, an angry frown on his faceplate. He held a stick in one hand, a flashlight in the other.

“What do you think you are doing around here, guttersnipe?”

Frowning, Steeldust looked up at the mech who was by now right in front of him. He twitched his doorwings and answered as polite as he could. “I was just walking around, Sir. I- “

“You have no business being here! Now go! Get out of here!” the guard growled, looming threatening over the youngling.

“I-didn’t-mean-any-trouble!” Steeldust protested, trying to stick up for himself. “And-I’m-not-a-guttersnipe!”

“You look like one to me,” remarked the mech, looking him over. “Now go back to the gutters that you came from.”

Steeldust glared up at him. He knew he should just walk away.

But he didn’t.

He had had enough of mecha like this.

Instead of leaving, he moved closer and stomped on the mech’s pede as hard as he could.

The mech let out a small, surprised yelp, jerking his pede back. He recovered quickly, moving to grab Steeldust.

“You little pit-spawn! You will pay for that!” he growled threateningly.

Dodging the hands that reached for him, Steeldust dove forward, punched the mech in the jaw that was now within reach, and ducked back under the extended servos. He danced a few steps away, watching the mech warily.

“Don’t touch me!” snarled Steeldust, doorwings hiked sharply upwards in a V.

The mech rubbed his jaw in some shock, then lunged forward again.

Deciding he’d had enough, Steeldust bolted, leaving the guard wondering what sort of youngling he had just encountered.

Unbeknownst to both the guard and the youngling who’d just taken off in a blur, a lone Towers mech stood at his window watching the whole thing. With a smile, he lifted his hand to his comm.

“I have a job for you,” he said lowly.

A deep voice, tone betraying annoyance with the caller, answered. “What is it now?”

“A trade,” replied the short Tower mech slyly. “You bring me something, I’ll give you first pick of my next weapons haul.”

There was a pause.

“What is it that you want me to get?”

The noblemech’s smile grew wider. He knew he’d already made the deal.

“One youngling. I’ll send you his description. He should be any easy find, perhaps not such any easy catch.”

There was another pause as the mech on the other end of the comm went through the sent information.

“I can guess what you want him for. Any tips on his location?”

“He just was near the Towers. Ran off towards the west. Think you can deliver?”

“Of course,” scoffed the other mech. “Regular meeting place?”

“You got it.” The Tower mech ended the comm, chuckling to himself.

Maybe Barricade had lost track of the youngling, but he would still get him.

Seemed like some orns, you had to do everything yourself.

* * *

Steeldust stopped once he figured the guard wasn’t following him.

“Stupid, stuck-up mecha,” the youngling huffed. “I wasn’t doin’ anything!”

He was getting real sick of mecha thinking just because he was wandering around that he was up to something.

“Time to find some energon I guess,” Steeldust muttered, noting that his fuel level was getting really low.

He began walking towards a spot he knew was any easy place to get it.

Steeldust still didn’t like stealing. But how else was he supposed to get anything? The few credits he’d had left over from the subspace upgrade were now long gone.

Singing for his supper had sometimes got him a few credits. Apparently, mecha thought he was good, or thought he was cute. More often then not though, mecha would simply walk by anyone who was begging, pretending not to notice them.

Hunger eventually won out over not wanting to steal.

After he’d snatched his energon and starvingly drank it, Steeldust wandered on.

There really wasn’t much else to do. He didn’t really feel like finding a place to recharge again since it was almost the solarcycle.

He was so deep in thought that he didn’t notice a tall, green and black mech slip out of the shadows behind him.

It wasn’t until the mech had grabbed him and stuffed him into a bag that Steeldust noticed someone near him.

“Hey! Let me go!” Steeldust yelled, kicking and thrashing in the bag. “Someone help me!”

Lockdown didn’t pay any mind to the youngling’s protests. He strode back the way he had come, transforming into his alt once he reached the street.

Steeldust continued to fight, trying to find his way out of the bag. He began kicking the mech who held him hostage.

“Stop it,” growled Lockdown threateningly. “Or I’ll have to knock you out.”

Stilling, Steeldust considered what he should do.

_“I’d-better-do-what-he-says. Maybe-I-can-escape-when-we-get-to-wherever-we’re-going.”_

“Who are you? What do you want with me?” Steeldust asked, settling down.

“I want nothing with to do with you,” replied Lockdown.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Be quiet and sit still,” the mech growled, his engine revving menacingly.

Scared and seeing as there wasn’t much use in asking anything else, Steeldust was quiet for the rest of the ride.

* * *

Lockdown entered an old warehouse on the outskirts of Iacon with his captive. Heading for the room that his contact would be in, he snarled a warning to the youngling.

“Don’t try anything. It won’t end well for you.”

Steeldust refused to acknowledge. Scared as he was, as soon as the bag was opened, he’d make a run for it.

The youngling felt them stop and there was the sound of a door opening. As the mech walked in, with Steeldust unwillingly accompanying, the door closed behind them. A loud click followed, signalling it had locked.

“Well, that was faster delivery than I expected,” came a new voice from somewhere in front of them.

“He might be fast, but I was able to sneak right up to him,” Steeldust’s captor replied.

“Ah, you’re good. That’s why I hired you,” said the other mech confidently. “Now, I’ll let you know when I have your items. Mind letting him out?”

Lockdown smirked, holding the bag aloft in front of him with one hand. With the other, he withdrew a knife.

Steeldust froze at the sound of the blade being unsheathed. _“They’re-gonna-offline-me!”_

With one swift swipe, Lockdown cut the bag, just beneath the knot. The rest of it, plus its contents, fell to the floor with a thud.

“Ouch!” came a muffled yelp.

Steeldust sat up and untangled himself from the bag. He poked his helm out and looked around.

The mech that had captured him still stood behind him. He glared down at the youngling, silently warning him to not try to escape.

Steeldust shrank away. He didn’t like the looks of the green and black mech.

The other mech in the room seemed much friendlier.

He was shorter than most mechs, even his guardian, Steeldust observed. His paint was orange and purple with not even one scratch on it. Large purple optics gleamed as he watched the youngling.

“Hello there, youngling,” the mech said, grinning broadly. “I hope my friend Lockdown here didn’t scare you too badly now?”

Steeldust said nothing, his helm moving from between the two mechs to scanning the room for an escape route. He slowly moved his frame into a position that he could easily spring up and run.

“Sorry we had to bring you here like that,” continued the smaller mech cheerfully. “But you see, I wasn’t sure if you would come willingly, since you don’t know either of us. And I really did want to meet you.”

The mech now had Steeldust’s full attention for the moment. The youngling tilted his helm, a rather confused expression on his faceplate.

“Why?”

“Well,” the mech replied, taking a few steps over and bending down to be more at the youngling’s level. “I heard that there was a youngling who had the gift of speed wandering the area. I’ve been looking for someone like that for some time now. And when I heard about you, I just had to take the chance you might be interested.”

“Interested in what?” Steeldust asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

“A chance to race! Though, I can’t offer you a spot in the professional leagues, they’d tell me you were too young.” The mech frowned, then waved it off. “But I have connections elsewhere and I believe that there would be an opportunity for you there. You could maybe start there and work your way up to the big leagues depending on how well you did.”

“Really?” Steeldust’s faceplate brightened for a klik. Then, he frowned, optic ridge raised as he stared up at the mech suspiciously. “Wait. Why would you help me?”

The mech shrugged. “Why not? I think it would be a mutual benefit to both of us. Unless you don’t want to race?”

“No, I really do want to!” exclaimed Steeldust, scrambling to his pedes. “I’ve always wanted to race, just like my Sire.”

“Of course you do then!” the mech smiled again. “And if you decide that you don’t want to, then we will make arrangements to have you come back home.”

Steeldust’s doorwings drooped. “I- I don’t have a home anymore. Or anyone to take care of me. My guardian joined the army- “

“Well, then. That’s terrible that they left you to fend for yourself,” interrupted the purple and orange, shaking his helm. He continued, gesturing widely with his hands and servos as he did. “We can’t have you wandering around by yourself with no place to go. How about this? To help you out and make it fair to both of us, I’ll make you a deal. You come and race for me, maybe do a few other odd jobs here and there with some of my other employees. I provide you with energon, a safe place to live, and the racing you’ve always dreamed of!”

Steeldust twitched his doorwings, considering. It would be nice to not be all alone. And maybe he’d still be able to find Jazz when he wasn’t busy.

Sensing the hesitation, the mech continued. “Come on, youngling. It can’t be a great life being all by yourself in the big world. Just try it. If you don’t like it, we can always make other arrangements.”

Slowly nodding, Steeldust agreed.

He was tired of his lot in life. Nobody seemed to want him. Everyone had left him. Everywhere he went, mecha tried to chase him off or told him to get lost.

He was sick of it all.

And if one mecha wanted him, even if it was sort of just to hire him, Steeldust decided he would accept.

“Okay. I’ll try it out,” the navy and black said firmly.

“Good!” The mech grinned widely, extending a hand. “It’s a deal then. What’s your name, youngling?”

Steeldust took the mech’s hand and shook it. “I’m Steeldust.”

“I’m Swindle,” replied the noble. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up and then I’ll escort you to your new home. I have transport already arranged for us to leave immediately. Ever been to Polyhex?”

“I used to live there.”

“Perfect! You’ll fit right in and be quite at home!”

Swindle then turned him around and began leading him out of the warehouse.

Steeldust noticed that sometime during the conversation, Lockdown had left.

He didn’t think about him any more than that. He was too excited about the possibility of belonging somewhere again. And the possibility of racing. He’d show everyone who had ever doubted him or thrown him out.

In front of the youngling, Swindle grinned. He finally now had a racer for the illegal races. And he was sure that Steeldust’s speed would in time assist in some other operations he had going.

Already, the youngling was a fighter. He had spirit and determination. With a bit of training, the conmech was sure he’d make a great addition to the rest of his employees.

Swindle wasn’t sure how exactly Steeldust had gotten from Praxus to Iacon, ending up on his own, but he wondered what the story behind it was.

Not that it really mattered, he decided. Even with Barricade losing tabs on the youngling, Steeldust had landed right where he wanted him.

And possibly, in an even better position to be prepared for what his future intended occupation might be.

Swindle could tell by looking at him. This youngling had been exposed to the real world.

Young Steeldust’s optics had been opened to reality, harsh as it was.

Perhaps, in time, Cybertron would know that the missing youngest son of the former champion racer was still online. And that he was just as good, or perhaps, even better, than its new favourite racer.

Eventually, if he was comparable in speed and skill to his older brother, Steeldust would likely compete against Blurr.

Swindle smirked. Blurr would not know what hit him when he was kicked out of his spot of top junior racer. It would serve him right for being so rude to Swindle the time they’d met.

Besides, who didn’t love watching a sibling rivalry?

But for now, Steeldust had some training to do.

The two mecha reached a sentient transport who had been patiently waiting nearby. Gesturing for the youngling to get in first, Swindle paused outside for a klik.

“Nitro,” the noblemech said into his comm. “Please make sure you are at headquarters when I return. I have someone I would like you to meet.”

* * *

Steeldust wasn’t sure where Swindle was taking him. And he had a feeling that he had signed up for more than just racing.

But if he was honest with himself, he no longer cared.

Jazz was supposedly somewhere in Iacon. Steeldust had also been in Iacon for more than a decacycle. It had been more than a jour since he’d left Praxus.

There had been no sign of his guardian. Or Prowl. Surely, had they been looking for him too, Steeldust would have been found.

They should have crossed paths at least by now.

The wanderers in Altihex had been right.

Jazz wasn’t looking for him.

His creators, not by choice, had left him.

Blurr had left him, refused to even talk to him. Steeldust had tried again since he returned to Iacon.

Prowl had left him. So had Jazz.

Jazz.

Who had promised to never let anything happen to him. Who promised it would be all okay.

Well, it sure wasn’t okay anymore.

Steeldust remembered something Jazz had said to him. Back when Steeldust first discovered that Blurr was still online.

_“Look here, Steeldust. I want you to know, just cause your brother didn’t care enough doesn’t mean nobody does. I care about you, more than you know. And I will never leave you. And you have Prowl and Bluestreak and Smokescreen. Silver and Aftershock and Aurora Star too._

_“Never forget that you are loved, youngling. You hear me? We’re here for you.”_

_“Then, why do I feel so forgotten and alone?”_ Steeldust thought bitterly. His optics then widened in horror. _“Was... Was Jazz... Lying to me?”_

Steeldust was afraid of going all the way back to Praxus. He didn’t want to know if Aurora, Aftershock, Nightracer, Silver, Bluestreak, Smokescreen, and everyone else he’d known had left too.

So why not see what this Swindle had in store for him. It wasn’t like he had anyone to ask permission to do things anymore.

Steeldust was on his own. He had to make his own choices now.

Even as he thought all this, gazing out the window as they left the city-state of Iacon, Steeldust wondered if it was the right choice.

And he wondered if he’d see anyone he loved ever again.

_“Goodbye, Jazz. Goodbye- Everyone. I’m sorry.”_

* * *

The End.

* * *

**Steeldust will return.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the end of Steeldust's story. Thank you all so much for reading!
> 
> I've begun the sequel, and will soon start to cross-post it here. Part of Runaway is already up on fanfiction if you wish to read it right away, and in addition, an alternate ending to this one.
> 
> Thank you all again for your support, and I hope you enjoyed reading Rise as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> See you in another one!
> 
> Skyshadow54
> 
> Credit Song: Crossing a Line - Mike Shinoda


End file.
